Only Ones Left
by Anxious-Writer
Summary: Quinn Fabray is living during the zombie apocalypse. Scratch that. Quinn Fabray is surviving. Well. Barely. She gets some help along the way from some unexpected people. Could a life in this world ever become anything worthwhile? AU. Eventual Faberry. M rating for potential future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **This is my first time actually uploading a fic and I'm very nervous about it! Any comments, messages, suggestions, etc. are completely welcome. I'd love some feedback. Let me know if you're interested in having me continue this story. This story (if continued) will become Faberry with some Quick, will mention Finchel, Brittana and some others.

**TW: **Character death, blood/guts/gore.

**EDIT:** You found me, Henna.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot.

* * *

The blonde woman was trembling, barely able to hold a pen when she started scrawling letters across a crumpled memo pad. Her skin was caked with dirt, crusted blood under her fingernails. She took shuddering breaths as she clutched the pen like it would be her saving grace. And to her, it was.

"_I wish I could start this story with a 'Once upon a time...' or something. I also wish I could tell a story that people would want to hear. But this story isn't a happy one. It isn't one that will make you feel like the world is a better place. But it isn't. And it won't ever be. Not anymore."_

_**Flashback**_

Quinn sat on a thick, tattered, red quilt, smoothing her hands over her jeans. She noted the dirt clinging to her cuticles and felt a flash of embarrassment before remembering where she was. She wasn't Quinn Fabray, daughter of Russell and Judy anymore. She wasn't wearing a light, airy sundress. Her hair wasn't curled into waves that brushed her shoulders when she walked down the halls of McKinley High School. If she was honest with herself, she wasn't sure if she could even _remember_ those halls. Things were different now.

A brunette crouched next to her, passing her a bowl of what looked like tomato soup.

"Thanks," Quinn said, her voice coming out as barely a whisper. The brunette nodded, eyes focusing intently on her own bowl. Quinn ran her fingers carefully around the rim of the bowl. It seemed so foreign to her, sitting down with someone else for a meal. How long had it been? Months? Years, maybe. Unable to ignore her growing hunger, she lifted the bowl to her lips and drank.

"_Fuck,_" she thought, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head. This had to be the best thing she'd ever eaten. The brunette seated across from her grinned.

"Good, huh?" she asked, eyes sparkling with mirth. All Quinn could manage to do was nod with the bowl still tipped to her lips. A silence passed between the two as they drank, neither managing to look at the other. After what only seemed like a few seconds, Quinn's bowl was empty. She could cry. She felt a hand, tugging the bowl from her. Quinn's eyes flashed and she clutched the empty vessel.

"I'll fill it up for you."

Oh my god. There was _more?_

"P-please? If it isn't too much. I mean, I've had enough. I—"

A hand was held up to silence her. Quinn ducked her head in shame. She'd probably said too much. This was the most she'd spoken in a long time and, after breaking silence, she couldn't seem to stop.

"T-thank you. You really don't have to do this. I should just get my stuff and—"

The same hand was held up again, and a full bowl was placed in her lap.

"It's alright. Really," the brunette replied. "It's kind of nice having some company. I can't remember the last time someone ate dinner with me."

The woman shot Quinn a look.

"But that doesn't mean I trust you."

Quinn's heart sunk, but she nodded in understanding. Trust wasn't something that people exchanged easily anymore.

Not after the epidemic.

* * *

People ran, screaming around her. It was absolute chaos. Mayhem. She was headed to school when she first saw it, a small crowd stumbling toward her McKinley. She squinted against the sun reflecting off the windshields of oncoming cars.

_No._

She miraculously managed to pull her car over before she threw herself out of the vehicle and ran in a dead sprint toward the black Jeep.

She heard it before she could see what was happening. Shouts rang out from the other side of the black car. Then she saw it. Red spattered the windows and Quinn's legs stopped working.

_Run_.

She turned to go, glancing back just to see his hand hit and fracture the passenger side window.

To this day, she can still hear his screams ringing in her ears.

That was the day her life changed. That was the day when she lost the one thing—the one person she held dear.

Noah Puckerman was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Thanks for the feedback! I feel like I should explain a little bit. In this story, Rachel and Quinn go to different high schools. The glee club doesn't exist and the characters from it don't know each other well, if at all. Rachel and Quinn have never met before. There will be some mentions of Finchel in this chapter and a few others.

**Disclaimer:** Again, I own nothing but the plot and took some liberties with the characters so please bear with me!**  
**

All work is unbeta-d and all mistakes are my own.

* * *

Quinn awoke the next morning, groggy and immediately panicked, not realizing where she was. Instinctively she reached for the knife in her belt, fingering the handle with one hand while she attempted to wipe the sleep from her eyes with the other.

The brunette. _What was her name?_

Well, whatever her name was, she was nowhere in sight.

Quinn stood up, dusting off her jeans and slowly wandered through the house.

"_Well, if you can call it a _house," Quinn thought, eyeing the dusty sheet-metal walls. "_At least there's a well just outside."_

The familiar sound of approaching footsteps shocked Quinn out of her thoughts. She could feel every inch of her skin sparking into hypersensitivity, her breaths suddenly magnified by the silence. Her hand crept slowly to the knife at her side, body flooding with relief when her fingers locked around it.

She whipped the knife out of her belt and threw her body toward whatever was approaching.

"Well if you wanted to kill me, you should've done it yesterday so you could greedily consume my portion of soup," the brunette commented, eyeing the blade next to her head.

"Fucking _Christ_ you scared me."

"Language," she shot back, clicking her tongue against her teeth. "You slept through half the day, you know. That's not very healthy. Or safe, for that matter."

"I… I didn't realize it was so late," Quinn replied, rubbing the back of her neck, sheathing her knife. "I… Sorry. About the knife. Precautionary, you know."

Rachel nodded. Anyone who was still alive knew.

"What was your name? I can't remember if you told me or not."

"Rachel. And I didn't," came the short reply from an even shorter girl.

"Rachel," Quinn tested, rolling it around on her tongue. "I like it. It's… Biblical." Rachel snorted.

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

Rachel walked right around Quinn, bumping her shoulder.

"I brought breakfast," Rachel stated, indicating to the rabbits in her hand.

"Meat? How did you get those? They're not infected, are they?" Rachel rolled her eyes.

"No. They're not infected. What do you take me for?" Rachel snapped.

"Sorry. I just—"

"Not everyone you meet is dumber than you, blonde," Rachel huffed indignantly, cringing slightly as she started butchering the meat.

"It's Quinn."

"I don't care," Rachel responded, starting to feel queasy from the butchering.

"Are you okay? You look sick."

Rachel nodded, keeping her lips sealed tightly shut. Quinn placed her hand on the smaller girl's shoulder, making her nearly jump out of her skin. Quinn flinched, pulling her hand away.

"I used to be vegan before… All of this," Rachel confessed, eyes downcast.

"Vegan? Really?" Quinn asked, eyebrows nearly blending with her hair. Rachel nodded in response.

"I wanted to stay vegetarian, but there just isn't enough viable protein now. Not here, at least. I've eaten meat a few times since. I suppose I'm still not used to _cleaning_ it," the brunette responded quietly.

"Here. I can do it. I can't say it'll be perfect, clean work, but I'll try. It doesn't bother me," Quinn offered. Rachel simply nodded and handed off the small paring knife. "You should sit down. Do you need water or anything?"

Rachel shook her head, sliding down to the dingy floor.

"So…" Quinn started. "Tell me about things. You know, before."

The short brunette sighed.

* * *

Rachel stretched out on her bed after performing her nightly routine. Sliding her headband off her head and tugging a scrunchie out of her hair, she fell onto her cushy bed. Crawling up to the headboard, she opened up her laptop. Her MySpace videos had a few scathing comments from the popular kids and a "_u did gr8 rach_" from Finn.

She sighed. Her real talent just wasn't appreciated by her peers. It was clear to her that they wouldn't understand when all they listened to was hip-hop and Top 40 music. Taylor Swift couldn't even sing! If only everyone would listen to the music of Wicked or Funny Girl. Rachel was sure they would fall in love with it if they just _heard_ it.

Glancing at the clock, she sighed yet again. Bedtime. She set her alarm for five thirty sharp when she would wake up to keep up her strict exercise regime.

Closing her laptop and sliding it onto her bedside table, she tucked in for the night.

The next morning, after her elliptical exercise of course, Rachel started to pull on her knee-high socks when she heard it. A scream? Why would someone -?

She finished pulling on her socks and reached for her bedazzled iPhone before she looked out her window. There was a man stumbling into her yard, limping and groaning. Realizing that her fathers had already left for work, she pulled on her loafers and scurried down the stairs to the door.

"Excuse me, sir? Do you need some assistance?" Rachel offered to the man, squinting against the morning sun. Not giving her eyes the proper time to adjust to the outdoor light was a poor decision, she noted. "Sir?"

The man continued to stagger toward the girl, picking up speed with each time Rachel spoke. But there was something strange about him. He made these sounds like his throat was parchment dry. His skin had a lifeless grey tone that made Rachel shiver as he got closer. Goosebumps erupted down her arms and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end as he approached. That was when she saw it.

His jaw was dislocated. There was bone sticking out of his right arm.

There was blood dripping from his yellowed teeth.

Rachel slammed her door and struggled to move a bookshelf in front of it.

It couldn't be. The rumors on the news had to be fake.

Right?


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **You'll see more here that I made this a little more AU than what's normal for a fic, but yeah. It's all for a reason, I promise! This chapter is a little more rocky than others because I got stuck in spots so bear with me. Special thanks to ArmadilloPretzels and BladedDarkness for the reviews!

**Warning:** Some Quick and Finchel here. Not a whole lot, but it will be brought up quite a few more times from here on in.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot, as usual.

All mistakes are my own.

* * *

Rachel stirred a huge pot of stew, glancing at Quinn every minute or so. Quinn had pulled out an old copy of a book Rachel never heard of and hadn't said a word since.

"Good book?" Rachel asked, stirring their dinner diligently.

"What? Oh. Yeah," Quinn replied distractedly. "It's one I couldn't part with even when the world was ending."

Rachel snorted. How could a book be more important than some kind of survival equipment? Granted, it was pretty small and could probably fit into her back pocket. Still. That space could be used for a weapon or something more useful than a book. Don't get her wrong. Rachel _adored_ reading and still believed that education should be a priority. But in this world? Reading a novel is just an easy way to get snuck up on and killed.

"Of all the things you could bring, you brought a book?"

"… Yeah. I guess. I used to read a lot," Quinn stated sheepishly. "No one would really believe that, but I didn't feel like I had any close friends. So… Books."

Rachel nodded, understanding completely what it was like to not have many friends. Not everyone could truly appreciate her ambition and talent. Most people were a little afraid of it.

"So..," Rachel starts. "You weren't very popular in school?"

Quinn has to laugh at that.

"Popularity doesn't necessarily mean you have friends."

* * *

Quinn walked the halls of McKinley high, taking pleasure in the parting crowds. Her Cheerios uniform was flawless. It was power. The whole school bowed down to Sue's Cheerios. Except the slutty ones. They didn't count.

"Hey babe," a tall mohawked boy spoke, walking toward the girl. He wrapped her in his arms and placed a kiss on her forehead.

"Good morning," Quinn replied, smiling brightly. "Walk me to class?"

"Of course," he said, smirking and offering her his arm.

Royalty. That's what they were. With the hottest football player on her arm and her uniform adorning her slim, tight figure, she _ruled_ the school.

* * *

"Oh my god," Rachel mumbled. "You were a _cheerleader_?"

Quinn nodded, feeling her chest tighten.

"Yeah. Popularity is overrated."

"I thought you'd be one of the outcasts. You don't act like a cheerleader."

Quinn snorted.

"Of _course_ I don't act like a cheerleader. What am I gonna do? Cartwheel the creepers to death? Tell them I'm popular so they can't kill me?" the blonde snapped.

Rachel rolled her eyes.

"I just thought cheerleaders would always act like the pretentious bitches they were in high school."

Quinn gaped. Was this girl serious?

"Pretentious _bitches?" _

Rachel nodded.

"They were all the same. Heartless. I was dating the _quarterback _and I was still tormented."

* * *

Rachel held her books to her chest as she walked the halls of Lima High, staying wary of any cheerleaders or football players.

"Rach!" an enormously tall boy called, grinning as he jogged toward her down the hall.

"Finn," Rachel stated breathlessly. "Good morning."

"Yeah," came his short, admittedly disappointing, response. "Listen. I can't make it to dinner tonight. Mike invited me over to play the new Call of Duty."

"Finn," Rachel whined a little desperately. "We had this dinner planned for _weeks_."

The taller boy faltered.

"I know. But it just came out yesterday! We can go to dinner tomorrow or something."

Rachel sighed, knowing there was no talking him out of this.

"Okay. Tomorrow then," Rachel conceded unhappily. "Walk me to class then?"

"Yeah. Okay," he smiled crookedly.

Rachel had to admit, Finn wasn't the brightest or most considerate boyfriend, but he was there and he really did care about her. He was sweet and he tried as hard as any high school boy would. He was her best friend even if he didn't understand her ambition. He appreciated her when no one else did. And for that, she was always thankful for the cute, gawky boy.

"Dwarf!"

It was all she heard before she was practically drowning in a bright red shower of ice. Finn dropped her hand and took several steps away from her.

"Oh god, Rach,"

Rachel held up her hand, then wiped the cherry flavored ice from her eyes.

"I-it's fine, F-Finn," Rachel stuttered out, shivering. "I j-just need m-m-my slushy kit."

The tall boy nodded and took off down the hall to her locker. Fumbling for a minute and forgetting her combination

"Rach!" he shouted. "What's the combination?"

Rachel sighed and walked down the hall, garnering quite a few stares and laughs from her peers.

"I-I'll do it," she murmured, putting a hand on Finn's shoulder.

"Sorry. I thought I knew it."

"It's fine, Finn. I a-appreciate the g-gesture."

* * *

"Holy shit," Quinn exclaimed. "Slushies? That sounds _terrible_."

"It was," Rachel nodded. "It was like being bitch-slapped by an iceberg. And the corn syrup stung your eyes."

Quinn shook her head. How cruel could high school students be?

Well, pretty cruel. She was one of them. She knew what it was like to have to fight your way to the top.

"Wow," the blonde wondered. "I'm just happy that never happened at my school. It probably ruins your clothes and stuff too, huh?"

Rachel simply nodded again, not entirely happy that she divulged that detail of her high school career. Of all the things she could've talked about, slushies is what she came up with.

"Stew's ready."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: **Quick, short update! I didn't want to drag this chapter out and I thought the end of the memory would be a good place to stop. Let me know what you think!

**Waning:** Lots of Quick here.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot, as usual.

All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

* * *

"How long do you plan on staying here?" Rachel inquired, stirring a pot of instant oatmeal. "I don't mean to sound pushy, but I'm still not sure about acquiring a companion."

Quinn agreed, letting her question sink in for a minute.

"I would say as long as you let me, I guess."

Rachel nodded and continued steadily stirring.

"I like having the company, to be honest," Rachel confessed. "But you and I both know that the more you care about, the more you have to lose."

Quinn conceded, picking at loose strings at the hem of her jeans. She only had one person to care about.

And losing him almost killed her.

* * *

Quinn sprinted to her car, hurtling into the driver's seat and whipped into traffic.

"_Noah is _dead."

She kept repeating it to herself, trying desperately to get it to settle in, for her mind to accept it. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. It wasn't until she felt drops on her lap that she realized she was crying. It seemed like just the other day, they were laying on the football field at night…

_"How did you get us in here?" Quinn asked, skeptical._

_"You know how the Puckasaurus does," he replied, smirking. _

_Quinn nudged his shoulder with hers._

_"Come on, Puck."_

_"So I picked a lock on the gate. Big deal."_

_Quinn rolled her eyes and snuggled into his side. They stayed silent for a while, enjoying each other's company._

_"Do you ever think about the future? You know, like, what you'll do? If you'll get out of here?"_

_Quinn pondered the question a minute before replying._

_"_We_ will get out of here, Puck. You and me," the blonde girl stated confidently. "We'll go out to California and I'll go to UCLA and you'll get a contract with a big record label just like you want to."_

_Puck fought the urge to roll his eyes._

_"_You_ will get out of here, blondie," he told her, tightening his arm around her shoulders. "You're brilliant as fuck, Q."_

_Now it was Quinn's turn to roll her eyes._

_"You're smart, Noah," Quinn said sincerely. "Me and you. _We_ will get out of here. Not just me. I need you there with me to take me out and treat a lady right."_

_Puck grinned smugly._

_"You know I know how to treat a lady."_

_Quinn chuckled, nuzzling his shoulder._

_"Yeah. Yeah I do," Quinn told him, looking up to meet his eyes._

_"I love you, Q."_

_"I love you too, Noah. We'll make it out of here. You and me."_

_"Us against the world."_

* * *

**A/N: **I kept forgetting to add this in before but I'm writing it as I post it. I literally just finished writing this chapter. I hope to be able to write this quickly and post as I go but I just want to say that in the future, updates may not be this quick and consistent. I get writer's block too! But I do enjoy writing this consistently. Thanks again for reading!_  
_


	5. Chapter 4b

**A/N:**

**Disclaimer:**

As always, all mistakes are mine in this unedited mess. Enjoy!

* * *

**_Before_**

Quinn drove to her house in a blur, barely remembering how she got there. She ran up the steps and into her parent's mansion-like home, dashing up the stairs to her bedroom. Throwing the door open, she yanked her Cheerios bag out from under her bed and began packing clothing into it as quickly as she could.

_Weapons. Clothes. Food. That's the focus. Then get out._

"Quinnie? What are you doing home? Shouldn't you be at school?" Judy called up the stairs, mystified and a little irritated with her daughter. "Your father does _not_ approve of truancy, Quinn."

The young blonde didn't answer, tearing around her room, stuffing her bag as full as she could get it before she pulled last year's bag out too.

"Quinn?"

Quinn jumped at the knock on her bedroom door, turning to see her mother in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

"Mom. It's true. What they were saying on the news. They're coming. They—"

"That's silly, Quinn. And it's a poor excuse for getting out of school. You know your father wouldn't—"

"_Mom_. I'm serious. We need to get out of here. We need to grab some of dad's tools from the garage and go. _Now._"

"I'm not leaving until your father gets home, Quinnie. This is so childish. Where will you go?"

"IT DOESN'T MATTER, MOTHER. WE NEED TO _LEAVE_," Quinn seethed, pushing past her mother to get to the kitchen.

"_Lucy Quinn Fabray! _You will _not_ talk to your mother with such disrespect!"

Quinn disregarded everything her mother said after that. If she was stupid enough to stay, so be it. This was about surviving now. Her mother never stood up for her when her dad kicked her out and let him back into their lives even after all of the horrible things that her father did. Quinn yanked open drawers and cabinets, tossing silverware, knives, soup cans, dried fruit, anything she could find, really, into her bag.

"You will _not_ take my silver, Quinn. This is ludicrous."

Again, Quinn ignored her and proceeded to the next cabinet, raiding it for all it was worth before moving to the garage.

_Weapons._

The tall blonde could hear her mom opening a bottle of liquor in the kitchen. Leave it to Judy Fabray to start _drinking_ at a time like this.

Quinn grabbed a hold of things, loading them into the trunk of her car. A shovel, a tent, and her two duffel bags made it into the trunk before she saw it. Her dad's hunting knife and his knife belt. She ran over and grabbed it, strapping it to her side before stopping what she was doing.

_Puck is gone_.

Quinn spared a look at her dad's gun safe, struggling not to break down.

_I could just end it now. Get it over with. I wouldn't have to run. I wouldn't have to see other people turn._

Quinn ran her fingers over the cool stained wooden surface of the safe, tears streaming down her cheeks at the thought of the _only_ person she cared about, gone. Just like that. She steeled herself and squared her shoulders.

_"_No. Puck wouldn't have wanted this,_" _she told herself, turning to get into her car.

She buckled her seatbelt and angrily swiped at her cheeks, smearing the tear tracks.

She drove without turning back, getting onto the highway and heading west.

_Goodbye, Lima, Ohio. Goodbye mom. Goodbye dad._

_Goodbye, Puck. I will always love you._

_ I'm going to California._


	6. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Yay another update! At least, I hope everyone else is as excited as I am to have more of the story. I'm starting to become really proud of this, especially considering it's my first published (on FFN, anyway) piece. Thanks so much for those of you who have reviewed and followed!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing, as per usual.

**Warning:** This contains a good bit of Finchel with some mentions of Quick. Sorry. It'll be Faberry eventually. Hang in there!

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

Quinn awoke with a start. She'd been having the same nightmare since this whole mess had started. The scene of Noah, her first and only love, being torn apart by graying, rotting corpses had played in her dreams too many times to count. She felt tears streaming down her cheeks and for once, she didn't wipe them away. Quinn sat up, crouching on the red quilt, hugging her knees to her chest, letting her tears soak the frayed knees of her jeans.

Rachel awoke on the other side of the small house upon hearing a muffled sob. She was reminded of how much time she'd spent since the first time she'd seen the creepers, crying. For the first week, it seemed, she could barely do anything but cry and run. She barely ate and awoke to nightmares almost every time she lay her head down. Nightmares about Finn.

* * *

Rachel closed her eyes, willing it all to have been a dream. The man walking across her lawn had to have just been a hallucination or a very cruel practical joke. She nodded to herself, murmuring about how vicious the people who attended her high school could be.

Until she heard beating on the door and that sickly groaning.

Steeling herself, she crept to the kitchen and picked up one of her daddy's Wolfgang Puck signature knives. It felt so much heavier in her hand now than it ever had before.

She took slow, quiet steps toward the door, holding the knife close to her chest. She felt her breathing pick up, hear heart rate skyrocket and briefly thought about how this much fear and adrenaline couldn't be good for one's health. Upon reaching her front door, she shut her eyes tight and took a deep breath.

The tiny brunette shoved the bookshelf away from the door with a strength she didn't know she had before flinging the door open, knife at the ready.

A cold, lifeless hand reached for her, dead, cloudy eyes widening. The groaning got louder and louder until it sounded like the roar of some demonic creature.

Rachel threw herself forward, thrusting her knife into the head of the lifeless beast in front of her, sinking the blade deep into an eye socket. She remembered hearing screaming, not realizing that it was her own until she'd taken a few steps back from the monster in front of her.

Her stomach clenched and she fell to her knees, vomiting violently into her dad's garden at the sight before her.

Her stomach turned again at the smell of the festering flesh and oozing, black, sludge that covered her hand.

The short brunette got up on shaky legs and retreated back into her house, heaving the bookshelf toward the front door. She ran a clammy palm through her hair, wiping at her mouth with the back of her other hand when she was struck with a realization. She would never see her dads again. She may never see Finn again.

She nearly leapt out of her skin when she heard a knock at the door.

"Rachel! Rach! Open the door!"

Rachel struggled to, yet again, move the bookshelf from in front of the door, surrendering to the idea that she may need a better way to block the door.

"Finn?"

"Oh god, Rach!" the boy exclaimed, stumbling through the doorway and enveloping the tiny girl in a hug. "I thought you were dead. Or one of them. I saw… I saw that… That _thing_ that—"

"I know," Rachel whispered, clutching his shirt. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too. As soon as I got a call from Mike saying it was true, I got in my car and came over here."

"I… I'm scared, Finn," Rachel confessed, letting tears leak out of her eyes.

"I am too, Rach. But we're together now. We'll be okay."

"What are we gonna do?" Rachel sobbed into his chest.

"We're gonna get out of here," the tall boy told her, confidently. "We can go to New York. Or… California. Or something. We'll figure it out."

"O-okay."

"We need weapons and stuff. Like… Knives or guns or something."

"Finn Hudson! We will not use firearms!" Rachel insisted, pulling out of the boy's arms and putting her hands on her hips.

"Rachel this is like… The acopaliss."

"Apocalypse, Finn."

"Yeah. That," he agreed. "We need to stay safe. And in all of my zombie video games you get guns."

"I don't care about what your video games say! We will not use firearms unless we are properly trained!"

"Burt taught me how to use one. And I've played like… A hundred video games with guns."

"It doesn't matter, Finn! We don't have any guns here, nor do we have the money or time to acquire guns and the proper training to use them!"

The tall boy sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I just want to be able to protect you, Rach."

"I—I know, Finn."

"Well, I have had some things prepared in the case that the rumors were true," the small girl confessed. "There's a duffel bag packed in my room with clothing, flashlights, and a few other necessities."

"That's good. But we need things to protect ourselves too."

"There are my daddy's knives and some gardening tools. Other than that, I wouldn't have the slightest idea of what to use…"

"That'll work. We need to get all of that and get in a car and get out of here. Soon."

"O-okay," Rachel agreed. "I'll go upstairs and grab my bag. There's a backpack in the hall closet that you can use to pack things from the kitchen. Get nonperishable items like canned foods and dried fruits."

"I can do that. You go. I'll meet you in the garage."

They shared a brief kiss before they went off to complete their tasks. When Rachel met Finn in the garage, he had 2 backpacks full of what sounded like metal objects and was currently swinging a garden hoe as if to test its weight.

"Be careful," Rachel scolded, frowning at the grin on Finn's face.

"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. "I was just testing it, you know? Seeing if I was ready to take down some Zs."

Rachel rolled her eyes and smiled. She wasn't sure if she was in love with Finn, but she knew she loved him a great deal. Even if he was a bumbling doofus sometimes.

They got in the car and Finn drove them toward the closest highway.

"East or west?"

Rachel took a moment to mentally say goodbye to Lima and everything she knew. She sent a prayer up that her dads would be alright before answering.

"West. California. It's the furthest thing from here."

The tall boy nodded and turned onto the highway.

It wasn't until hours later, at nightfall, that they stopped to set up camp. Rachel was shocked that so much stuff fit into her small VW bug but Finn pulled out a tent and two sleeping bags.

They settled in for the night after splitting a can of vegan refried beans. Neither of them were that hungry after all of the anxiety of the day.

"G'night, Rach," the boy whispered loudly. "Sleep well."

"You too, Finn."

"I love you," he replied, again a bit too loudly.

"I love you too, Finn."

The next morning, Rachel awoke to the sound of Finn stoking a fire outside. She rubbed her eyes, willing the memories of the dead zombie thing out of her mind. She pulled her hair back into a ponytail, wishing she could take a shower and exercise on her elliptical like she usually would.

Finn smiled brightly at her, stirring a can of green beans for Rachel and a can of Manwich for himself. How he managed to acquire a can of Manwich from her house was beyond her.

"Hey, Rach!"

"Good morning, Finn," Rachel replied, sitting down on a blanket Finn had spread out for them.

The two sat in silence for a while before Finn handed Rachel her can, wrapped in a towel, and they started to eat. Finn sat and tipped his can toward his mouth, slurping his breakfast up loudly. Rachel grimaced and pulled a fork from their backpack to start in on her own food.

After finishing their, admittedly disappointing, breakfast, Rachel went behind the tent to wash her face and brush her teeth with some of their bottled water. There was no sense in sacrificing personal hygiene, even if it meant having more bottled water. The short brunette was about halfway through brushing her teeth when she heard a yell. She furrowed her brows and spat toothpaste into the brush.

"Very funny, Finn," Rachel called out to the boy. Clearly his boyish sense of humor hadn't diminished after the traumatic events of the previous day. Her reply was met with the sound of a few rustling pots and—

Oh god. The groaning.

Rachel immediately dropped to a crouch, slowly maneuvering her way around the tent. Peeking around the thick, green canvas, she could only see Finn's legs flailing. She slowly stood up, looking completely around their temporary house.

Finn's body was sprawled out on the ground with a creature crouching over him, groaning and reaching toward him. He had the garden hoe in his hands, trying to push the beast away from him, whimpering, his eyes wide with terror.

Rachel clamped a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming when she saw the corpse sink its fingers into Finn's cheek. The boy screamed out, blood streaming across his face as he tried to turn to escape the cold, dead hand. His eyes caught Rachel's.

"_RUN! RACHEL! RUN!"_

Rachel's voice was caught in her throat as she took staggering steps toward this nightmare before her.

"_GET OUT OF HERE! TAKE THE CAR! RUN—"_

Finn was cut off with a shriek when the creature fell on him, sinking its decaying teeth into his arm.

"_ARRRGGGHHH! RUN! GET AWAY, RACHEL! RUN!"_

Rachel's body obeyed him and before she could even form a coherent thought, she was in her car. Her body felt like it was made of solid lead and she could barely see with the tears flooding her eyes but she was speeding away. Far away.

"_I'm so sorry, Finn. I love you. I'm sorry."_

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks so much for reading! I really appreciate it! I'd like to get more feedback on what to fix/change/what's going well so please, please, _please_ review! Thanks again!


	7. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Hello readers! First off, thanks again for keeping up with this! The follows and reviews mean the world to me as I navigate through writing my first fic. Secondly, I have to say that I found this chapter a little challenging to write. I've never written for these characters before so I was really trying to capture them here. Quinn may seem a little OOC and Rachel's vocabulary may not be as spectacular as we all know it to be, but I tried. I really did. Hope you like it and it isn't too bad. Haha.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Nothing at all. Except the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

Rachel nearly leapt out of her skin when she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Do you mind if I…?"

Rachel shook her head and was enveloped in a hug. She felt tears stinging her eyes and for the first time in a long time, she fell into someone's arms and let her emotions overtake her.

Quinn rested her chin on Rachel's shoulder. It'd been so long since she had physical contact with another real, breathing person. When she saw Rachel staring blankly at the other side of the room, tears streaming out of clouded eyes, she knew what it meant. Quinn guessed she looked something like that when she thought of Puck. Tightening her grip on the smaller girl, she felt her heart surge with an unexplainable sense of responsibility and protectiveness for the smaller girl.

After Rachel's sobs died down, Quinn stood, almost missing a disappointed whimper from the smaller girl. Quinn smiled in sympathy.

"I'm going to go refill our pot with water from the well. We should get it boiling so we can have something for breakfast."

The small brunette nodded, sniffling. Quinn noted how vulnerable the other girl looked and felt protective of her. The blonde was sure she'd been through a lot, judging by her closed-off nature.

After returning to the room, Quinn put their water over a wood-burning stove to boil out any impurities.

"I—Thank you," came a quiet response from the smaller girl. Quinn quirked an eyebrow.

"For what?"

"You know. Being there, I suppose," the brunette reasoned.

"Hey. Don't worry about it. It's what any still sane would do," the blonde shrugged.

Rachel smiled fondly, picking at some strings on the tattered mattress where she sat.

"For someone who I am residing with, I still know very little about you, Quinn," Rachel admitted to the tall blonde. Quinn stirred a pot of oatmeal on the stove and nodded.

"Well. My name is Quinn Fabray. I'm from Lima, Ohio—"

"_You're _from _Lima?"_

"Um… Yes?" Quinn replied, unsure of what exactly the other girl meant.

"Lima. As in flatter-than-a-wooden-plank, middle-of-nowhere, barely-more-than-a-Walmart, Lima, Ohio."

"Yes. Lima, Ohio," Quinn responded, still utterly confused. "I don't believe there's more than one."

"I suppose I just struggle with believing the odds that I, Rachel Barbra Berry, have managed to find one of the _very_ few remaining survivors from my hometown."

"… Barbra?" Rachel raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Barbra. As in the great Ms. Streisand."

Quinn chuckled.

"And _how_ could that _possibly_ be funny, Quinn Fagray?"

"It's _Fabray_."

"Irrelevant. Barbra Streisand is a musical legend. I am _honored_ that my fathers chose such a superb middle name for me."

Quinn let out a full belly-laugh, the "fathers" comment going completely over her head, and Rachel huffed.

"_Clearly_ you're just like the other cheerleaders and popular kids at the high school I used to attend. No respect for great musical theatre _legends_…"

"Hey," Quinn defended, raising her hands in surrender. "I like Funny Girl just as much as the next person. But naming your kid after-"

"You've _seen_ Funny Girl?"

"Yes, _Sadie_. I've seen Funny Girl."

Rachel's heart fluttered. She always wanted to be a Sadie.

"I want to inform you that your reference to the greatest musical of all time was not at all lost on me."

Quinn snorted and nodded.

"I thought this was supposed to be about you getting to know me?"

"Right," Rachel conceded. "Please continue."

"You sure you won't go into another diatribe about Lima or The Babs?"

"Yes. I will be fully attentive to any and all information of which you wish to share."

"Okay then… Um. I am eighteen years old and would have been off to Yale, or some other prestigious university that my parents deemed worthy, were it not for the fucking _zombie apocalypse._"

"Language."

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Really, Sadie? Language? I thought the end of the world may be a good _fucking_ time to use profanity."

Rachel winced at the curse word.

"There is no good reason to use profane words, Quinn Fabray," Rachel responded. "The use of profanity is for those who do not have the ability to properly articulate what they mean using elevated language."

"Well maybe I just _fucking_ like using profanity."

Rachel grimaced.

"Well, I request that while you are enjoying _my_ hospitality that you refrain from using it."

"Fine," Quinn agreed. "I will try."

Rachel nodded and a silence passed between the two.

"Aren't you going to continue?"

"I was wondering if you had any other conditions before I continued, preferably without being interrupted," Quinn stated with mirth.

Rachel shook her head.

"No further conditions, Ms. Fabray. Feel free to continue."

"Well, I grew up Catholic—"

"The girl who is using profanities in the same manner that Californians use the word 'like' grew up _Catholic?"_

Quinn stared at Rachel.

"… I apologize for my outburst. Please continue."

"Oh, no. By all means, Rachel. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I am finished with my rant, Quinn."

"For now," Quinn mumbled.

"Hey! I resent that! I grew up with two gay fathers who always educated me on the importance of standing behind your beliefs!"

"Two gay dads?"

"Yes. If you have a problem with Catholic homophobia, you can leave right this minute, Quinn. I also believe that I mentioned it earlier in our conversation."

"I guess I missed it," Quinn admitted.

Another silence passed between the two as they both absorbed what little information they had passed between each other.

"So am I ever going to get the chance to really speak?"


	8. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Hello yet again! Thanks for the reviews! I'll reply to each one as I get them. I figure if you take the time to write such nice things, and for reading my story, the least I can do is reply, right? Well, it made sense in my head. This is just a quick update. I'll try to get another chapter cranked out tonight but we'll see. As usual, thanks for reading.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing. Nothing at all. Ever. Except the plot. Awww yeah.

All mistakes are my own. Enjoy!

* * *

For once, Rachel felt like she was enjoying herself and really living instead of surviving. Quinn made things seem less daunting. Though they were almost out of food, Rachel didn't feel panicked. The days didn't feel as dark.

Quinn got up, groggy, hair sticking up in more directions than Rachel could count. The smaller girl couldn't help but smile.

The comfort of having another human to spend time with, talk with, and get to know, was more than Rachel ever thought possible since she lost Finn. Quinn had a biting sense of humor that tended to calm down Rachel's naturally neurotic nature.

"G'morning," Quinn mumbled, stretching her arms above her head.

"Good morning, Quinn," Rachel responded brightly.

"How are you always so… sunshiny in the morning?"

Rachel grinned.

"Maybe it's because I used to get up at five thirty every morning."  
Quinn gaped at her. _Five fucking thirty?_

"That's unnatural."

"Your hair is looking a bit unnatural right now."

Quinn smoothed a hand over her messy blonde hair, combing through it with her fingers before putting it up in a messy bun with her last intact hair tie.

"How are the rations? Do we have much left?"

Rachel bit her lip and shook her head.

"We have enough for maybe breakfast and a small lunch today."

Quinn nodded silently.

"Have you checked the traps yet?"

"I did this morning. I think the animals around here have caught on."

Quinn bit her lip.

"Maybe it's time to move on then?"

Rachel felt like her stomach had dropped into her feet. Moving on meant facing more Zs. Or creatures. Or creepers. Whatever people called them.

"Well, I can't help but agree. We've run out of other options, really. I wish we could stay here where there's a steady source of water and a real stove but we can't very well starve."

"When do you think we should head out?" Quinn asked, fingers grazing the handle of her blade.

"I think after we make the last of the oatmeal we should pack up."

Both girls stood in silence, knowing what they would face outside.

"Do we stick together? Or should we—"

"We stick together," Rachel said adamantly. "I'd forgotten what it was like to have some form of contact with someone else. But if you get caught, I won't be opposed to leaving you. I like you Quinn, but I like breathing more."

Quinn nodded, unsure if she'd agree if Rachel were caught. She'd grown fond of the shorter girl and felt a closeness with her that she couldn't explain. Maybe it was that Rachel was the first breathing human that she'd talked to since she lost Puck.

"It's my turn to get the water, isn't it?"

Rachel nodded somberly.

"Be careful, Quinn. We've stayed in one spot for a while. I get the feeling that we've gotten a little too comfortable."

Quinn pulled her blade from her side and twirled it in her hand.

"You're worried about me?" Quinn smirked.

"Yes. Your blood will draw more to this location if you're killed," Rachel said, bumping Quinn's shoulder with her own.

"I won't be killed, Berry. I'm a bona fide badass. Do you even know me? I'm Quinn Fabray," the blonde joked, channeling some of her inner Puck.

"Well, Quinn Fabray, be _careful._"

Quinn sent one last smile over her shoulder before she headed out toward the well.

Rachel sat back down on her mattress and felt her anxiety building. What if something happened to Quinn while she just sat here?

_Just like with Finn_.

The short brunette startled when the door was swung open. Quinn walked in, her knife between her teeth, their black pot filled with water. She raised an eyebrow at Rachel.

"See? Fucking badass."

"Language."

"Whatever."

After packing all of their belongings, which wasn't much, they stood to go to the door. Quinn could feel the tension building with each step toward it. In a flurry, Quinn was wrapped in an embrace.

"I'm scared, Quinn."

Quinn wrapped her arms around Rachel's shoulders, holding the girl to her.

"It'll be alright. We're in this together now."

"Until you get yourself killed," Rachel tried to joke, trembling slightly.

"My legs are longer. If anything, I just have to outrun you, shorty," Quinn mumbled into Rachel's hair. Rachel punched Quinn in the arm.

"You wouldn't."

Quinn couldn't answer, accepting that no, she really wouldn't.

With one last squeeze, Quinn reached for the doorknob, knife held tightly in her other hand.

"Ready?"

Rachel nodded, holding tightly to her own blade.

Quinn threw the door open and they stepped out into the sun.

* * *

**A/N: **I solemnly swear that there will be some ass kicking action in the next chapter. Or so I hope. I've never really written an action sequence before so we'll see! Thanks for the read! Please review!


	9. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Yay! Another chapter! Though I'm starting to think I should space out postings more so there is a little more anticipation. **cackles evilly** But I probably won't because I've been told the quick updating is going well for most of you. This chapter contains a little more of the excitement that I'm sure people have anticipated in a zombie fic. Hopefully I'm doing my thoughts justice. Thanks for reading!

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

* * *

Quinn took cautious steps through the yellowed, dry grass, holding tightly to her knife. Rachel followed behind her, doing her best to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible.

The creepers were attracted to sound. Since most of them had rotted eyes and their noses would often only smell the dead, festering flesh, their ears were the only way for them to detect humans.

Quinn remembered reading a book about zombies when she was in high school. It wasn't assigned reading or anything. Puck had actually made her borrow it, claiming they couldn't go on unless she had read at least _one_ of his favorite books. She'd found it interesting how they justified the science behind the living dead. Something about a virus causing the brain stem to spark back to life after death. Maybe that's what was causing all of this.

"Okay, Berry," Quinn whispered. "We head south until we find a highway or something then we—"

"Quinn!" Rachel stage-whispered. It was something she had perfected so as to not be so loud that many would hear and not be so quiet that you couldn't be heard. "Look out. There's a… a _thing_."

"Creeper, Rachel," Quinn replied at full volume, rolling her eyes a little. "It's fine. It's only one."

The tall blonde lurched forward in a sprint, knife poised, ready to take it down. The creature immediately started heading toward her, dragging a broken leg, croaking and groaning.

With a grunt, Quinn kicked off the ground, launching herself toward it, plunging her knife into its skull.

Rachel had never before seen a display of such physical strength from someone her age. Quinn had to have jumped at least three feet in the air, perhaps more.

"How did you-?"

"Cheerios," Quinn replied. "I had a psychotic coach who practically trained us into the ground. If you couldn't get at least four feet off the ground in a single leap, you were out."

Rachel's eyes widened.

"I find that both disturbing and impressive."

"A lot of people do, Rach," Quinn replied, wiping blackened blood from her knife onto the grass.

"Look out!"

Quinn barely had time to turn and see a woman, flesh appearing to have been melted off her face with a blowtorch. Her cloudy eyes were wild, her arms flailing toward the two woman.

Rachel leapt forward, forcing her knife through the thing—creeper's eye socket. Using her foot for leverage, she yanked the blade from its head, grimacing at the dead flesh clinging to the metal surface.

"I'm not sure I'll ever completely get used to that," Rachel spoke, fighting the urge to gag.

"I dated a guy who used to play gory video games," Quinn replied, shrugging. "I guess it isn't as bad with some kind of exposure to it."

"I never watched Finn play games."  
"Finn? That was his name? Your boyfriend?"

"Yes," Rachel said, defensively. "What's wrong with that? It's a perfectly acceptable name."

"Nothing," Quinn said, chuckling. "It's just eerily similar to _my_ name. Finn and Quinn. It'd be weird if he and I dated."

Rachel nodded in agreement.

"I could've sworn I mentioned his name."

"No," Quinn stated. "You never did. I never mentioned my… Well I guess he wouldn't be called an ex if we never broke up, right?"

"I have no idea how to answer that."

"Well. I never told you his name."

Rachel stood with a brow raised.

"What?" Quinn asked, turning to keep trudging toward a highway.

"Well aren't you going to tell me his name?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" Rachel demanded, staring at the ground to focus on not tripping. "You know my former significant other's name!"

"But you told me of your own volition."

"That's not the point!"

"Well maybe I just don't want to tell you," Quinn laughed.

Rachel was really growing on the tall blonde.

"But that isn't fair!"

"Fine. Noah. Noah Puckerman. Most people called him Puck."

"Puck? Like a hockey puck?" Rachel asked, utterly confused as to why someone wouldn't just go by their first name. "Why wouldn't he go by Noah? 'Puck' is silly. I like that Noah far more."

"Not everyone goes by their first name, Berry."

Rachel paused, now even more befuddled.

"Wait," Rachel started. "What was your full name again?"

"I never told you."

Rachel huffed. Quinn grinned.

The two girls continued on, bickering on occasion as they moved into some dense brush.

"We need to be careful in here," Rachel spoke quietly. "I can't see too far ahead."

"That's probably because you can't see more than two feet from the ground," Quinn joked.

"Hey!" Rachel called. "That isn't fair!"

"Shhhh. Rachel. We don't want to be caught," Quinn said, clapping a hand over the brunette's lips.

Rachel's eyes widened then she pouted.

"Are you going to be quiet?" Quinn asked, keeping her hand firmly over the other girl's mouth.

Rachel nodded before her eyes went wide and she pointed straight ahead. Quinn's gaze followed.

"Shit!" the blonde muttered, pulling Rachel into a bush.

Six or seven creepers hobbled slowly toward where they stood. Rachel clenched her eyes shut, now thankful that Quinn's hand was still over her mouth. The sound of their moaning would always unsettle her. There was something about the dead speaking, making sound, that always sent chills down her spine.

"If we stay quiet, they'll pass and we can get away," Quinn breathed.

Rachel jumped at the closeness, blushing at the girl's breath on her ear, but she nodded. Quinn slowly removed her hand from Rachel's mouth, wrapping an arm protectively around the front of her shoulders.

The blonde staggered for a second, losing her balance and her foot slid back.

_SNAP_

Three of the six creepers turned and faced them, beginning to move wildly toward them.

_Fuck._

* * *

__**A/N: **Dun dun duhhhh. (My lame impression at a daunting sound. Don't judge me.) I hope you liked it! Please leave me some feedback! It makes me happy!


	10. Chapter 9

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update this afternoon! I was snuggling my girlfriend's cat and sleeping in. So this chapter is kind of short but I feel like I got it to where I wanted to. Hope you guys agree! Please enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine!

* * *

Rachel reached down with her free hand and slid her fingers between Quinn's. The blonde glanced down in surprise and squeezed Rachel's hand in her own.

"One," Quinn mouthed. "Two, three!"

The two charged out of the bush, lodging their knives into the skulls of their approachers. Quinn took one down, leaping onto the third before it could reach Rachel. The creeper grabbed Quinn's arm, flailing, doing everything it could to fill its mouth with the blonde's flesh. Rachel turned, horrified to see Quinn struggling to get her knife arm free.

"Rachel," Quinn said in an even tone, closing her eyes. "Run."

Rachel turned to see an open path before her before glancing back at Quinn. Meeting the blonde's eyes, she bit her lip for a second, hearing Quinn's heavy breathing as she struggled to keep her arm down.

"No," Rachel replied in an equally even tone.

The brunette took several steps forward, slamming her knife into the creeper's skull.

"Not again," Rachel said to herself.

"We need to go," Quinn whispered. "The others may have heard that."

The brunette nodded silently, turning to walk away from the massacre of corpses. Quinn took a deep breath before she marched forward. She slid her hand into Rachel's and squeezed. Tears slid from Rachel's eyes and she squeezed Quinn's hand.

They were in this together.

After walking for several hours, the two girls found what looked like an old barn. The girl's eyes met and they both nodded, agreeing that this could be a good place to stop.

Quinn broke into a run, Rachel following close behind. The closer they got, the more Rachel felt her heart rate pick up for reasons other than the running. What if there were more of them in there?

Quinn pressed an ear to the door, eyebrows pulling together in confusion. Quinn took a step back and knocked. Rachel stood in horror.

"_Quinn_," Rachel hissed. "What if there's something _in there?" _

Quinn shook her head.

The door opened to reveal a tall, blue-eyed blonde. Rachel's eyes widened.

"Hi!" she said brightly. "Oh! Were you wanting to stay here? San said no one can stay here but us but you're both pretty hot."

"Britt!"

The blonde disappeared and a tan-skinned brunette took her place.

"The fuck do you want?" she asked abrasively.

Rachel's eyes, if possible, widened even more.

"We were looking for a place to stay," Quinn said calmly.

"So? There's plenty of barns around here. You and your hobbit girlfriend can yet your own."

Rachel's mouth fell open.

"Excuse me? She's not my girlf—"

"Find your own damn barn, smurf."

"Saaaaaaannnnn," they could hear the blonde whine.

"Please. We'll do anything you want," Quinn offered, hoping to get out of the scorching sun. And the possibility of being eaten alive.

"San we can have that foursome you always wanted to try!"  
"Britt!" the girl they assumed was 'San' stated.

Rachel could fall over at the inappropriate nature of this conversation.

"Ex-_cuse_ me!" Rachel said indignantly. "I refuse to _prostitute_ myself for place to stay! This is appallin—"

"Oh. It speaks," the tan-skinned brunette said, smirking.

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Come on, Rachel," Quinn told the girl. "We can just find somewhere else."

"Santana! Let them in!"

Santana rolled her eyes and opened the door. Rachel stood with her arms crossed.

"Well? You gonna come in or not?"

Quinn was shocked, to be honest. She walked into the spacious barn, Rachel right behind her. Immediately Quinn was wrapped in a hug.

"I'm so happy we get to have more friends!" the taller blonde said into Quinn's hair. Quinn stood stock still, utterly confused. _Friends?_

"Britt, you're freaking her out."

"Oh!" Britt said, pulling back. "Sorry!"

Rachel looked terrified. Completely and utterly terrified.

"So," Santana started. "Where are you guys from?"

* * *

**A/N: **I hope my characterization wasn't _too_ far off. Again, I've never written for these characters before so thank you for sticking with it. Please let me know what I'm doing right and wrong! Thanks for reading!


	11. Chapter 10

**A/N:** As you will see in this chapter, I totally support many ships from Glee. And I'm not nearly as good at writing intense, dramatic scenes as I am at writing awkward stuff. So I apologize for my lack of intense talent. I hope you guys can appreciate this chapter. I won't lie, I was laughing maniacally inside as I wrote it. I also take some liberties with Brittany's character here. So, yet again, bear with me. I hope you guys enjoy it!

**Ship Warnings: **Pezberry and Brittana in this chapter. With some mentions of Quick.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing! But the plot. That is mine.

All mistakes are mine. No one wants to edit for me so... Yay! Mistakes!

* * *

"Santana?"

"What?"

"How do you… You know."  
"Actually, I don't, hobbit. I can't read minds, despite what Brittany may have told you."

"H-how do you plsrawmn"

"What?"

"How doyoupleasureawoman."

"One more time," Santana said, smirking. The other girl rolled her eyes.

"How, Santana," the girl started, glaring. "Do you pleasure a woman?"

"Of all the things to ask me during this fucking nightmare of a zombie apocalypse, why in the _hell_ would you want to know that?"

"I've always been a little… Curious. And now's a better time than any, seeing as how the world is ending."

Santana smirked. This was almost too easy.

"It'd be much easier to show you than to tell you, Berry."

Rachel would swear that her face was fifty shades of red.

"I…"

"Oh my god," Santana started. "You're serious?"

Rachel gaped a little, unsure of what to say.

"Holy fucking _shit_. You really are serious."

"Well, Quinn and Brittany have been out hunting for goodness knows how long. And I've never…"

Rachel dropped off mumbling again.

"You're going to have to speak much louder than that if you want some any of _my_ help with your little _problem_."

"I HAVE NEVER HAD AN _ORGASM_, OKAY?" Rachel hissed.

Santana's mouth dropped open.

"Are you fucking _serious_ _right_ _now?"_

Rachel could only nod, now completely sure that not a drop of blood was circulating between anything but her heart and her head.

"You've never fucked yourself?"

Rachel gawked, utterly flustered.

"I… I have. But it was never… I never—"

"You can't be serious. This is blasphemy."

"I don't believe I have said anything sacrilegious, Santana. I just… I don't want to die without having one. With everything being as uncertain as it is, the likelihood of me meeting a tall, intelligent individual whose musical talent matches my own that is-"

The tan brunette rolled her eyes and held up a hand, halting Rachel from speaking.

"We have some time before Britt and Q get back if you want to experience," Santana gestured. "_All of this."_

"What about Brittany? I was under the distinct impression that you two were an item."

"Me and Britt have been best friends since we came out of the womb. Sure, we have sex. And it's fucking awesome. But we've never been exclusive. It's always been open."

"I...," Rachel hesitated. "O-okay."

Santana raised an eyebrow, grinning.

"You want to get all up on this, smurfette?"

"Just shut up and help me."

Quinn was surprised at how _incredible_ Brittany was at hunting. Her and Santana had a crossbow that was apparently Brittany's since she was very young. The girl was a beast with that thing.

After having shot and killed four squirrels, six creepers, and two rabbits, without losing a single arrow, the girls decided it was time to head back to the old barn.

Quinn stopped in at a small pond, filling their four canteens and an empty jug with water to boil.

"What's it like to have sex with Rachel?"

Quinn whipped around to face Brittany, face comically horrified.

"What?" the blue-eyed girl asked.

"She and I aren't-…. We've never—"

"Why not? She has really nice legs. I've seen then when she changes."

Quinn could only stare at the other blonde, rendered completely speechless.

"I… We barely know each other. I've only ever had sex with… Well. He's gone now. But yeah. And I'm straight. I'm not into women like… Like _that."_

"Why not?"

"I don't know, Brittany."

"You and Rachel should totally do it. Me and San do all the time. It feels really good!"

Quinn blushed.

"I… Congratulations?"

"Thanks!"

"We should head back."

"Okay!"

Quinn doubted she would ever understand the other blonde. It was like she was from another world. She was good company, though. The girl was always in good spirits, always cheerful.

They made the long walk back to the tattered barn far quicker than they thought they would. Quinn swung open the door to find a topless Santana with her head between Rachel's—_Oh god._

Quinn slammed the door shut, her eyes wide.

"What is it, Quinn? Oh god! Are they okay?!"

Brittany pushed Quinn aside and threw the door open herself.

"Ooh! Can I join?"

Rachel shoved Santana off of her, her eyes springing open, scrambling for her clothes before realizing they were on the other side of the room.

"Hey Britt," Santana greeted, smirking and licking her lips.

Quinn walked in, a hand over her eyes.

"I-is it safe?"

"Just a second," Rachel called, unable to meet anyone's eyes as she hurriedly pulled on her clothing. "Okay."

Quinn opened one eye, peeking out between her fingers. Rachel's hair was mussed, her lips pink and slightly swollen. The blonde felt blood rush to her face.

A prolonged, very awkward silence fell between the four girls.

"San, what was it like to—"

"I brought back water!" Quinn cut the other girl off. "Brittany killed some squirrels and rabbits. She's amazing with that crossbow. Is it hot in here? I'm gonna go take a walk."

Quinn exited the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

Another silence fell between the three girls.

"I… I'm gonna go clean these," Rachel said, holding up the dead animals then grimacing before she stalked out the door.

Brittany sat down on the slightly damp mattress.

"San?"

"Yes, Britt?"

"Why didn't you wait for me? Threesomes are totally hot."

Santana stared at the blonde.

"Maybe next time, Britt."

"Okay," Brittany agreed. "How was it?"

Santana paused, raising a brow.

"Fucking _hot, _B," the brunette answered. "Really fucking hot."

About an hour later, the two girls heard a knock at the door.

"Come in!"

Quinn peered around the door. Brittany and Santana sat, fully clothed, with Brittany holding a Dr. Seuss book. Quinn internally sighed with relief before walking in.

"Where's Rachel?"

The short brunette walked in almost as if called, carrying the skinned, cleaned animals.

"Um. Dinner?"

* * *

**A/N: **-snickers- I really hope at least a few of you enjoyed that as much as I do. Maybe I just have a sick sense of humor. I probably do. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please let me know about likes and dislikes here! It really helps!


	12. Chapter 11

**A/N: **So that last chapter was a little cracky. I would apologize but I kind of had that planned since before I started writing all of this. I'm a big Pezberry fan, what can I say? This one is a bit more intense. Hope you guys like it!

**Ship warnings: **Brittana and some Pezberry if you squint. But don't squint too hard. It's there.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine since this is all unbeta-ed. Enjoy!

* * *

For the next few days, Santana was almost perpetually smirking, Quinn was almost perpetually flabbergasted, Rachel was almost perpetually blushing, and Brittany was… Well. Brittany.

Meals went from a strange sleepover-like state to one that was unbearably awkward for half of the party.

They had already separated out the work for the most part, though Quinn insisted her new work partner become Santana instead of Brittany.

Rachel spent her days watching with a horrified fascination as Brittany pinned innocent woodland creatures to trees with an extraordinary grace.

Quinn and Santana spent a majority of their time bickering incessantly.

"Blondie, when are you gonna get over the fact that I fucked the woman you're desperate for?"

"I'm not desperate for her! I'm straight! It's just awkward…"

Santana rolled her eyes, growing very tired of this conversation.

"Straight is a meaningless word."

"It is not!"

Santana ignored her, mulling about the barn, picking up Brittany's clothes. Quinn sighed in frustration.

"How does someone like Brittany deal with a zombie apocalypse?"

"She thinks it's a game," Santana replied nonchalantly.

"How does she…?"

"Britt is different from most people," Santana said fondly.

"I can see that," Quinn mumbled.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing."

"You tell me now, Q."

"No thanks, _S_."

Santana tackled Quinn to the floor, pinning her arms down.

"Take it back!"

"You don't even know what I said!"

"I don't care. Take it back!"

"Never!" Quinn challenged, struggling against Santana.

"Say it, Q."

"No."

"Tell me!"

"NO."

"Just fucking—"

"A-are we interrupting something?"

Quinn whipped her head toward the door, mouth falling open. This was not good.

Rachel stood with Brittany, holding a full jug of water, face flushed as she stared at the two girls.

Quinn threw Santana off of her, getting up and dusting off her jeans.

"Santana was just—"

"I don't want to know."

The rest of the day passed in near silence with the exception of the off-handed comment from Brittany. Rachel and Quinn barely exchanged more than ten words with each other.

In the morning, Rachel and Brittany headed out to hunt before Santana and Quinn even woke up.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what, Rachel?" the tall blonde asked obliviously.

"Hunt animals," Rachel replied.

"I just think of it as target practice!"

Rachel nodded, following quietly after Brittany.

"That makes sense, I guess."

Brittany raised her crossbow and fired, nailing a rabbit mid jump.

"I know they're animals," Brittany admitted, frowning as she picked up the creature. "And that makes me sad. But San says we need to eat. So I have to do it. And it can be fun."

Rachel agreed.

The sound of a twig snapping scared off Brittany's next target. Frowning, the blonde turned toward the sound. She reached out and grasped Rachel's arm, pointing toward the sound.

"Creeper," she mouthed.

Rachel's eyes widened and she nodded, reaching for her knife.

Brittany shot into a group of trees, smiling when she heard the dull thud of a body hitting the ground.

Another set of steps followed the sound. And another. And another.

After counting at least 8, Brittany turned to Rachel and pointed toward dense brush toward their right.

"Run. I'll follow," the blonde whispered.

Rachel opened her mouth to protest but nodded when the blonde gave her a stern look. It was impossible to say "no" to Brittany.

Taking careful steps, Rachel scurried toward the brush, looking back over her shoulder at Brittany.

The brunette screamed when a hand grabbed hers, yanking her toward it. She was forced to face a creeper, jaw broken almost in half as it snapped toward her, groaning and croaking. Brittany shot it right in the center of its forehead, stepping on its face as she yanked her arrow back out.

"I'm right behind you. Go!"

Back at the barn, Santana checked her old digital watch, surprised that it still worked after all this time. It was late. Britt should've been back half an hour ago. It never took her this long to shoot enough for dinner. Maybe it was getting tougher after they'd stayed there for so long. Still, it didn't sit well with her.

"They should've been back right now," Santana said.

Quinn agreed, sitting down on her tattered blanket.

"Well," the blonde started. "They're only a little late. We'll wait another half hour or so then we'll head out to look for them."

Santana nodded, picking at loose strings on the old mattress.

They waited around twenty minutes before neither of them could stand it anymore. Quinn grabbed her knife and Santana grabbed her machete, each donning their backpacks with as much stuff as they could fit.

Something was wrong and they both knew it. Quinn took one last look at the barn and they headed out the door.

Rachel's legs burned and her lungs were screaming for air but she kept running with Brittany right on her heels. The blonde was barely panting. Rachel was heaving, ready to collapse.

"Keep going, Rach. We're almost there."

"Al… most… where…"

"The secret place," Britt told her. "San said if anything happened, we'd meet there."

"Why aren't we headed to where they hunt?"

Santana lead them way further off than Quinn thought they should go, but she followed nonetheless.

"Britt and I agreed to meet somewhere if anything happened. It's out of the way but I know she'll be there. She has to be there."

Quinn patted Santana's shoulder and the two broke into a jog.

"Brittany, they aren't here," Rachel confessed, bending over to put her hands on her knees. Her throat was parched dry. This could _not_ be good for her singing voice.

"They will be. They'll be here."

"Brit, the creepers are not far behind us. We can't afford to wait too long."  
"They'll be here, Rachel. I know they will."

Santana broke into a sprint when she saw the silhouette of her Brittany aiming her crossbow toward a creeper. Quinn followed, staying effortlessly in step with the brunette.

"Britt!"

"San!" the blonde called back, stabbing her arrow through the already partially crushed skull of the creeper advancing on her.

"Quinn?" Rachel called, secretly proud that even out of breath, she could still project her voice.

"I'm here!"

"Q, you and Rachel head west. Me and B will hold them off then head east to draw them away. If anything, they'll split and we'll have a better chance."

Rachel looked toward Quinn, secretly hoping she would disagree.

"We'll help take some down, then we'll split," Quinn offered. Santana nodded, pulling her machete from its sheath. Brittany wrapped Rachel in a hug and kissed her cheek. Santana pulled Quinn in for a quick squeeze. Brittany kissed Quinn full on the mouth to the shorter, hazel-eyed blonde's surprise.

Santana pulled Rachel into a hug, whispering against her ear.

"Take care of her, okay? And take care of yourself," the tan-skinned girl whispered, kissing Rachel's forehead.

Rachel nodded, squeezing Santana's hand as she pulled away.

"Ready?"

All the two blonde girls nodded. Rachel wiped a tear from her eye then agreed.

"Let's kick some ass."

* * *

**A/N: **Drama! So much drama! Let me know what you think! I think I'm losing it, writing as much as I am but I hope at least a couple of you still enjoy it! Please review! It makes writers happy!


	13. Chapter 12

**A/N: **This chapter made me sad... and it made me laugh my ass off. What can I say? I don't like for things to be too heavy for too long. I hope you enjoy it!

**Ship warnings: **Just a smidgeon of Pezberry here. And a tiny bit of Brittana. Maybe even a little Faberry. If you squint so hard that you get a headache.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine because this literally goes from me typing it to me posting it. Enjoy!

* * *

Santana ran forward, swinging her machete down into the first creeper's head, yanking it out, she dove for another. Brittany stood stock still, shifting slightly at the hips, firing arrows from her crossbow, each finding its mark right between decaying eyes. Quinn was stabbing her way through as many creepers as she could, grunting with the effort. Rachel snuck through the bushes, jabbing her knife stealthily into the base of as many skulls as she could.

"Britt!" Santana called, tossing arrows back at the girl.

The blonde caught the arrows with ease, loading the back in before firing again.

After taking down what had to have been at least six creepers each, excluding Brittany who took down at least fifteen, Santana looked at Quinn and nodded before they took off in separate directions. Brittany turned and waved. Santana grabbed her hand and they jogged off.

"C'mon, Rachel," Quinn said, grabbing the smaller girl's hand.

The two girls ran west to find another shelter.

Saying goodbye to Brittany and Santana was almost as hard as saying goodbye to their homes. Something about the girls reminded them so much of having semi normal lives in Lima.

After running for at least two or three miles, the girls slowed to a walk. Rachel was gasping for air while Quinn was panting slightly.

"H-how. Do. You. Run. So fast," Rachel panted out, stopping for a minute to catch her breath.

"My cheer coach was crazy," Quinn chuckled, deciding it'd be best to let Rachel take a breather. "I thought I told you that earlier."

"You did," Rachel gasped. "I just. Didn't think. She was _that_ crazy."

"You have no idea, Rach," Quinn replied. "C'mon. We need to keep moving."

Rachel's legs felt like they were constructed of a mix of lead and cement but she soldiered on after the blonde. Her eyes slid over Quinn's form as the girl walked ahead of her.

"Are we okay?" Rachel asked after a minute or two of silence.

"Of course," the blonde replied. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"I was just asking if we were okay since we've barely exchanged but a few words with each other since you walked in on Santana performing oral sex—"

"We're fine!"

"… Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?

"Do you have a problem with homosexuals?"

"What? No!"

"But you seem so alarmed by the idea of two women having se—"

"I am not homophobic!"

"Oh," Rachel stated.

"… What?"

"It isn't _lesbian_ sex that you have a problem with."

Quinn's face was tomato red. The blonde shook her head.

"It's sex in general, isn't it?"

"What? No," Quinn replied, irritated. "Look, Rachel, can we just drop it?"

"I don't understand, Quinn. Sex is perfectly natura—"

"I KNOW."

"… Are you a virgin, Quinn?"

"No, Rachel," the blonde stated exasperatedly. "I am not a virgin."

"… Then why is sex such a touchy subject?" Rachel asked. "No pun intended."

"It isn't! I don't know!"

"Is it because of your Catholic upbringing?"

"I don't know, Rachel," Quinn told the girl, starting to become angry.

"There's no need to get angry, Quinn. Have you ever engaged in masturba—"

"NO!"

"You've never touched yourse—"

"Can we just _drop it?" _the blonde hissed.

"I would just like to know why you seem so perturbed by the idea of sex!"

"I'm not opposed to sex, Rachel. I've had sex before. Plenty of times."

"Somehow I find that hard to believe," Rachel, confessed. "Did you ever achieve orgasm?"

"WHAT?"

"It's a perfectly reasonable question."

"Drop it. Just stop."

The two walked in silence for a bit and Quinn felt some of the immense volume of blood drain to other parts of her body.

"So you've never had an orgasm?"

"Rachel!"

"What? I'm very curious!"

"I could see that when Santana had her face in your-… Down there."

"In my vagi—"

"I KNOW WHAT IT'S CALLED."

"Quinn! Just tell me!" Rachel pleaded. "Please?"

"It's none of your business!"

"I thought we were friends!"

"Of course we are! What does that have to do with anything?"

"Don't girlfriends… I don't know. Confess the dirty details of their lives?"

"Firstly, we are _not_ girlfriends. We're not dating!"

"Well of _course_ we're not, Quinn. I meant in the friend sense," Rachel snapped, rolling her eyes. "Why would you think that I would assume that you and I were engaged in a romantic relationship?"

"I don't know! I'm confused!"

"Just tell me," Rachel whined.

"No."

"Come on, Qui—"

"I mean, no. I never have. Okay?"

"O-okay."

"What?"

"I just briefly entertained the idea of Santana giving you—"

"NO. No. Just no. Stop."

"But Santana was rather good with her tong—"

"STOP. LA LA LA LA LA," the blonde yelled, clapping her hands over her ears.

"OKAY! Okay. I'll stop."

"What?"

Rachel pulled Quinn's hand off of her ear.

"I said, I'll stop," Rachel told the girl, rolling her eyes.

"Good."

The two continued walking in silence. Rachel sighed.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"I must say that while I very much enjoyed the company of Santana and Brittany and will dearly miss them, I'm happy I agreed to let you accompany me."

"Thanks, Rachel. I'm glad we're together too."

"… Quinn?"

"… Yes, Rachel?"

"I hope that one day someone can bring you to an amazing orgasm."

"I…," the blonde started. "Thank you?"

"You're welcome."

* * *

**A/N:** Ah. What a lovely hunk of awkwardness right there. Just... Take it in. Savor it. Don't you just love seeing Quinn squirm? Maybe I'm a sadist. Anyway, please review! It lets me know what's going right and what's going wrong! Thanks for reading!


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N:** So this chapter is a little (lot) heavier than most of the previous ones. It's pretty emotional. I knew I was going to do this the second I started writing so I'm not trying to be cruel, I just think it's necessary to get the story to where I want it. Hopefully I did the emotion justice here. I'm working very hard at it. And if you're here because you read SEF, welcome! I love new readers!

**Warning:** **SPOILER FOR THE CHAPTER**- character re-death - **SPOILER**

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot. I also don't own the song included in this chapter.

All mistakes are mine. Please enjoy!

* * *

Rachel sat on a fallen tree, borderline disgusted with the fact that she was hungrily pulling the meat off of the bones of what was once a rabbit. Quinn sat next to her, sucking on bones and cartilage. The two had gone a couple days without eating much more than a caught bird or squirrel here and there. Without Brittany's hunting skills, the two felt doomed to forever scavenge, crossing their fingers that some unsuspecting creature would snag in one of their traps. Quinn would give Rachel the larger portions, growing increasingly worried that the smaller girl was getting too thin.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"I'm concerned that we don't have enough food. We haven't found any buildings or things of the like to raid. You're losing weight. I can almost see your ribs."

"I know, Rach," Quinn confessed, a little agitated. "But it isn't like we have any other option. We'll find an old house. Something. We have to."

Rachel nodded, knowing the odds were against them.

They set up an old, one man tent they found at the old barn, using Quinn's blanket for warmth, the girls huddled together.

"I can see my breath," Rachel whispered.

"I know, Rach. It's getting colder out."

Rachel pulled the blanket tighter around herself, shivering. Quinn wrapped an arm around the smaller girl, pulling her to her chest.

"We'll find a new place," Quinn told the girl, holding her tight.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"Would you mind singing for me?"

"Singing…?"

"It helps me sleep. I used to have to listen to music in order to—"

"Yeah. Okay."

_"There was a time when men were kind,  
When their voices were soft  
And their words inviting  
There was a time when love was blind  
And the world was a song  
And the song was exciting  
There was a time  
Then it all went wrong_

I dreamed a dream in time gone by  
When hope was high  
And life worth living  
I dreamed that love would never die  
I dreamed that God would be forgiving  
Then I was young and unafraid  
And dreams were made and used and wasted  
There was no ransom to be paid  
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night  
With their voices soft as thunder  
As they tear your hope apart  
As they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side  
He filled my days with endless wonder  
He took my childhood in his stride  
But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he'll come to me  
That we will live the years together  
But there are dreams that cannot be  
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be  
So different from this hell I'm living  
So different now from what it seemed  
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed."

Rachel dozed quietly in the blonde's arms.

"We'll make it, Rachel," the blonde whispered into her hair, wiping her tears. "I promise."

In the morning, the two girls set out without breakfast, continuing west. Rachel seemed more rested and a bit less alarmed this morning, Quinn noted. They walked in silence for the most part, meeting each other's eyes every so often and nodding in encouragement.

"Would you rather eat a jar of mayonnaise or two sticks of butter?"

"What?"

"I assumed that talking would help pass the time. It may help keep us alert."

"Okay," Quinn agreed. "I'd eat the butter. I couldn't handle the texture of the mayo."

"It's your turn."

"You didn't answer the question!"

"I would also subject myself to the dairy," Rachel stated firmly.

"Okay. Um. Would you rather be stuck in a glass box with only an inch on either side of your body or be bound tightly in a fabric from head to toe?"

The girls continued on, asking whatever questions came to mind. There was almost as much laughter was there was banter and the girls felt almost carefree.

"Wait," Quinn said suddenly, holding a hand out.

There was a rustle coming from just to their right. Quinn took a few cautious steps toward it.

"Quinn!" the brunette hissed.  
_"What?_"

"Just… Be careful."

Quinn nodded, pulling her knife from her belt. She reached forward, pushing branches aside. The girl gasped, dropping her knife.

On the ground before her was the mangled, form of an upper body. Femurs were completely exposed, rotting flesh having been stripped off. The face was only half there, mandible only barely covered by tendons. There was a silver plated guitar pick strung on a thin, strong chain around its neck.

It read NP+QF.

Quinn had given it to him for his last birthday.

The blonde dropped to her knees a few feet away, wishing desperately that she could reach out to what was left of him. He croaked and groaned, festering hands grabbing dead leaves and brush, trying to pull himself closer.

"Quinn, what is-?"

"_Noah_," the blonde whispered, looking up at Rachel with tears in her eyes.

Rachel gasped, covering her mouth, tears springing to her own eyes.

"Oh, _Quinn_."

"I… I don't know what to do."

"I can do it, Q."

The blonde let out a sob, pressing her face to her hands.

"I-I will."

Taking a deep breath, the blonde picked up her blade. She took one last look before plunging her knife into the creeper's head. Rachel bent down, pulling the necklace off of the dead flesh, careful not to tear more off.

Quinn reached out and let Rachel place it in her hand.

"He's in a better place now, Quinn," the brunette told her, kneeling down next to the blonde.

Quinn nodded, unable to form words. Rachel whispered a Jewish prayer, hoping that some god, somewhere would hear her.

"We should go."

"Are you sure? You don't need time to—"

"Let's go, Rachel," the blonde stated coldly.

Quinn dropped the necklace in her pocket, picked up her knife, and stood up. Rachel got up, dusting off her knees. Quinn walked away, not bothering to look back.

"Goodbye, Noah," Rachel whispered to the boy. "I hope things are better for you now. Wherever you may be."

* * *

**A/N:** This made me even more sad than when I killed Noah off the first time. Poor guy. I love his character so much. But I think it's necessary to bring up some of Quinn's emotional troubles. Anyway, thanks for reading! Please review! Even if you're not into that, a review of this chapter would mean the sun and sky to me!


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I would first like to apologize for my lack of writing/responses today. I wasn't feeling well so I literally slept all day. Okay! In response to a couple questions, I'd like to say that I considered it okay to bring Puck back into the story because the two girls had spent quite a bit of time being stationary. With the elements and what have you, he lost his legs somewhere along the way and was stuck where he was. The girls stumbled on him when they continued walking. I hope that's a good enough explanation. Anyway, this chapter is again, more intense. But I hope I ended it in a good enough place so as to not leave people depressed at the end. Thanks for the reviews, follows, favorites, etc! I really, really appreciate it!

**Disclaimer:**I don't own the song used in this chapter, nor do I own the characters. I only own the idea of a plot. And ideas are bulletproof. (I don't own that line, though. It's from V for Vendetta.)

All mistakes are my own!

* * *

The blonde hadn't spoken in three days no matter what Rachel tried. She'd barely eaten the meager amounts of food that they acquired and her skin had become paler than usual. To say that Rachel was worried would be a complete understatement. The blonde was icy.

"Quinn?"

The blonde turned to look at Rachel, eyes glazed over.

"You haven't eaten much of anything. And you haven't said a single word since we saw—"

"_Don't._"

While Rachel was a little relieved that the girl had broken her silence, the manner in which she choked out the word made Rachel nervous.

"Quinn, I understand that this is difficult for you, but—"

"_Difficult?_ You have no _fucking clue_ what I'm feeling right now."

The brunette was stunned into a silence, taken aback by Quinn's outburst.

"Quinn, I'm just trying to—"

"Well stop. You don't understand. You'll _never_ understand what happened."

"Quinn, I lost people too!" the brunette shouted indignantly, growing frustrated. "You are not the only one to have lost people that you cared about! You're not the only person who watched your loved ones be attacked and killed right in front of you!"

Quinn huffed, turning to get up.

"Fuck you, Rachel," she hissed, pulling her knife and stalking off.

"Quinn, where are you going?"

The blonde ignored her, continuing to walk off. Rachel followed close behind the taller girl.

"Quinn, you can't just walk off!"

"Leave me alone, Rachel," the blonde fumed. "Go away."

"I'm not going to just disappear, Quinn," Rachel stated calmly. "We're in this together, remember?"

The blonde scoffed.

"I'm sure you told Finn the same thing but where is he?"

Rachel stopped dead in her tracks, horrified at what Quinn was saying. The blonde faltered, seeing the hurt in the shorter girl's eyes.

"Fuck. Rachel, I didn't mean—"

"You have _no_ right to be acting the way that you are. If you want to be an immature child, Quinn, so be it. But I will not tolerate you saying such _atrocious_ things to me. If you want to leave, fine. Go. But I believed that we were friends. You became one of my best friends. And if you're willing to throw all of that in my face because you won't allow yourself to process your own _damn_ emotions, then I don't want you to remain in my life."

The blonde nodded.

"I'm sorry, Rachel. I didn't mean it."

"I accept your apology and will forgive you when you have proven to me that you really do value me as a friend and as a person."

"That sounds fair," Quinn whispered.

Rachel agreed, offering her hand to the blonde.

"Come on. I think I heard one of our traps go off."

Quinn took Rachel's hand, squeezing it in apology. Rachel responded with a squeeze of her own and the two headed off toward their temporary camp.

They ate their dinner, another rabbit, exchanging quiet conversation.

"Rachel."

"Quinn."

"What did you want to do? You know, before the world ended."

Rachel snorted.

"The world isn't over, Quinn. And I wanted to move to New York City, attend NYADA, become a Broadway star, win at least three Tony's, and settle down with a husband and a couple children."

"That's oddly specific," Quinn told the girl, chuckling. "Broadway, huh?"

"Yes, Quinn. I had been training to become a triple threat starting at the tender age of two."

Quinn burst out laughing.

"You're messing with me, right?"

Rachel frowned, shaking her head.

"Prove it then, Berry."

"I haven't even warmed up, Quinn. It would be highly unlikely that after our severe lack of nutrition—"

"Come on, Rach. You've heard _me_ sing."

"I do not understand what that has to do with our current conversation."

"It's only fair that I get to hear you sing in turn."

"Fine," Rachel huffed. "But I am not up to my usual standards after not having my soundproofed bedroom, vocal classes and—"

"Oh just sing already, Berry."

"FINE."

Rachel stood up, mentally running through her repertoire before settling on a song. Quinn sat, utterly amused at how professional Rachel could look in the middle of a fucking _forest_ during the zombie apocalypse.

"We travel single-oh  
Maybe we're lucky, but I don't know-  
With them,  
Just let one kid fall down  
And seven mothers faint.  
I guess we're both happy, but maybe-  
We ain't.  
People-people who need people  
Are the luckiest people in the world,  
We're children, needing other children  
And yet letting our grown-up pride  
Hide all the need inside,  
Acting more like children  
Than children.

Lovers are very special people,  
They're the luckiest people  
In the world.  
With one person, one very special person  
A feeling deep in your soul  
Says you were half,  
Now you're whole.  
No more hunger and thirst  
But first be a person  
Who needs people.  
People who need people  
Are the luckiest people  
In the world!"

Quinn was flabbergasted, utterly stunned into silence, wondering how such a magnificently loud sound could come from a girl so small.

Rachel smirked and sat back down, finishing what was left of her rabbit.

Quinn touched her cheek feeling tears that she hadn't even realized she'd shed.

"_Wow._"

"While I will agree with that statement, I will be honest in saying that that wasn't nearly my best performance."

"_Wow."_

"Yes, Quinn," Rachel responded. "I am a brilliant singer."

"_Fucking wow._"

"Language."

"Sorry. How did you…? I just… I can't."

"You can't what?"

"I can't even come up with words. Just _wow._"

"I will take that as a compliment."

* * *

**A/N: **Thanks so much for reading! I'll make an effort to write more tomorrow. Please review!


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N: **So this chapter is pretty short. I'm starting to get a little stuck. I'm unsure of how I want to get them to where I want them. But I'm working at it. Thanks for the reads, guys. Even if you don't review, seeing the viewer count go up is really encouraging. Thanks so much for the support!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are all mine.

* * *

Quinn and Rachel crawled into the tent, trying very hard not to elbow each other while settling down.

"Rach?"

"Yes, Quinn?"

"Would you mind if I...?" Quinn indicated to holding the smaller girl. "My arm will fall asleep if I keep it at my side."

Rachel scooted herself closer to the blonde, huddling into her side. Quinn wrapped her arm comfortably around the smaller girl. Rachel shivered at Quinn's breath against her neck. The blonde pulled Rachel closer.

"Will you sing, Quinn?"

The taller girl nodded against her shoulder, singing softly into her ear until she felt the smaller girl's breathing slow.

Quinn sat up slightly, admiring how peaceful Rachel looked. It made Quinn forget that the world around her felt like it was falling apart. And in that moment, Quinn felt like there was hope.

Quinn woke up with Rachel's head on her chest. She smiled down at the girl, running her fingers through the girl's hair.

Rachel sat up, groggily, eyes barely open.

"Quinn?"

"… Yes?"

"Good morning," the girl mumbled.

"G'morning."

Rachel got up out of the tent, stretching her arms up over her head. Quinn followed, pulling the tent shut behind her.

"I hope we can find some kind of shelter today."

"I do too, Rach."

After each drinking a good amount of water, disappointed that there wasn't anything to eat, the girls set out continuing west.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?" the blonde responded, growing accustomed to the smaller girl's questions.

"Do you believe in heaven?"

"I think so. I hope there is. And I'd like to think there's something good waiting for the good people out there."

Rachel nodded, padding slowly after the blonde.

"Quinn?"

"Yes, Rachel?"

"I think Noah went to heaven."

"I…" Quinn started. "I hope you're right."

After what felt like days, the two girls found an old country house. It was empty for the most part, obvious that the former tenants had left before the creepers had reached them.

"Quinn!" Rachel squealed.

The blonde shot up, whipping around toward the girl.

"What? What's wrong?"

Rachel turned to face her, a huge smile spreading across her face. She held up a can of vegetables.

"They left a ton of food! We're going to have dinner!"

The smaller girl threw her arms around Quinn. The blonde held her, tears flooding her eyes in relief. She didn't have to be scared that they'd have something to eat. She didn't have to worry that Rachel would eat.

Quinn let go of the smaller girl, looking over her shoulder at the plethora of cans in the cabinet. There had to be at least twenty on each shelf. Rachel gripped the blonde's hand, her excitement brimming over.

"We're gonna make it, Rach. We'll be just fine."

* * *

**A/N: **Again, sorry for such a short update. I'll try to get at least one more chapter written today for you guys. Please review and let me know what you think/what's going well and what isn't. Thanks for reading!


	17. Chapter 16

**A/N: **This one's a little more light-hearted. I kind of feel like the last couple chapters have been pretty heavy so I hope this is a nice break from all that sadness. There's not a lot to it, but I plan on putting up one more chapter tonight. Sorry about being so slow today! Thanks for sticking with it this far!

**Warnings: **Mentions of sex and sexual acts. No smut yet. Sorry, guys.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

As always, all mistakes are mine. Let me know if I messed anything up!

* * *

Quinn sat back with a hand over her stomach. She'd only eaten one can of carrots and she was completely stuffed. Rachel made it through a can of green beans as well as a can of beets. The two girls sat happily on Quinn's red quilt.

"What's a game that girls played at sleepovers?"

"I don't know. Truth or Dare. Never Have I Ever. They were all silly."

"Let's play one! I believe that Never Have I Ever would be ideal, considering neither of us knows a lot about the other. And I'd rather not risk being dared to run around the house naked."

Quinn snorted.

"Okay, Rachel. We'll play it with ten fingers instead of with alcohol."

The shorter girl nodded and both girls put their hands out, palms open.

"You go first," Rachel insisted, giddy at the idea of playing a real sleepover game.

"Never have I ever… had Santana go down on me."

Rachel frowned, lowering her finger.

"That wasn't even fair."

"It was perfectly legal."

"Fine," Rachel huffed. "Never have I ever… owned a pet."

Quinn dropped her thumb to her palm.

"How have you never had a pet?"

"My dad was allergic to cats, daddy was allergic to dogs."

"That's sad," Quinn told the girl. "I had a hamster. And then I had a guinea pig. My sister had a cat, but I wasn't allowed to get a cat or dog after Patches scratched up my dad's leather briefcase."

"It's your turn, Quinn."

"I know, I know! I'm getting to it," Quinn mock snapped, winking at the smaller girl. "Never have I ever performed on a stage."

Rachel's mouth dropped open.

"You cannot be serious! That's impossible. _Everyone_ has performed on a stage at some point."

Quinn shook her head.

"I was sick during all my elementary school recitals."

Rachel scoffed, reluctantly dropping her index finger.

"Never have I ever shot a gun."

Quinn dropped a finger.

"You've shot a gun? How?"

"Well, Rachel," Quinn started. "You hold it in your hands, and pull the trigger."

Rachel frowned at the girl.

"I know _how_ to, Quinn. But what was it like?"

"I don't know, Rachel… It felt powerful. And terrifying. My dad took me one day to teach me the importance of gun safety."

"It's your turn, Quinn."

"Never have I ever eaten a vegan meat substitute."

Rachel stuck her tongue out at the blonde.

They continued to play the game until they were both down to one finger.

"Never have I ever… Um. I don't know. Seen a live Broadway musical."

"_Quinn Fabray,_" Rachel hissed.

"What? My dad didn't like them."

"That is impossible. I don't accept that. Ask another."

Quinn scoffed.

"It is _not _impossible, but I'll ask another since you clearly don't believe me. Never have I ever drank beer."

Rachel sat with her finger held up high, smiling. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"Never have I ever… I just want to learn more about you. So I'm going to risk my last finger. Never have I ever kissed a girl."

Rachel lowered her finger and watched in utter shock as Quinn lowered hers as well.

"WHO? WHEN?" Rachel shouted, stunned.

"Brittany did. She would ask me questions when we were hunting and she found out that I'd never kissed a woman. So she kissed me."

"What did you think?" Rachel joked, smirking.

"It was nice, I guess," Quinn confessed, shrugging.

"That's it? Nice?"

"Yes? Brittany is a great girl. I wasn't really into it but it was sweet. It isn't like she went down on me or anything."

"Hey. That was one time."

"Brittany went down on you too?"

"No! Just Santana. God, Quinn," Rachel chastised. "Do you think I just hand it out to every person who passes? Goodness."

"Clearly you don't, considering I never got an offer."

Quinn's face flushed when she realized what she'd said.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Mmhm. Whatever you say, Fabray."

"Rachel! I do not," Quinn hissed. "want to _do that_ to you."

"Why not? What's wrong with me?"

"Nothing! You're great! I'm just… Not into that."

Rachel sniffled.

"Am I that repulsive to you, Quinn?"

"No! You're gorgeous! I just…"

Rachel had tears streaming down her face at this point.

"You what? What's so wrong with me?"

"Nothing! Rachel, I would totally go down on you if I was into that."

Rachel couldn't help it, she burst out laughing. Quinn sat, puzzled.

"Wha…?"

"I told you I was a triple threat, Quinn."

"Oh god."

"So you want to go down on this?" Rachel smirked.

"I can't believe… You ass!"

Rachel giggled and laughed at how much Quinn's face reddened.

"You totally want me."

"Whatever, Sadie."

* * *

**A/N:** What can I say? I love awkwardness and making Quinn feel awkward. Please review! It lets me know if I'm doing something right for once!


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N:** A little action in this one! And it's much longer than the last two chapters. I hope you guys enjoy it!

**Ship warnings:** There is some Quitt and a little flicker of Faberry.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Let me know what I can do better!

* * *

Quinn woke up at dawn, stretching her arms across her chest. Rachel was asleep next to her. Looking into their food cabinet, Quinn knew it was about time to find a new place to hunker down. They were down to about ten cans and two bags of beef jerky.

Quinn sent up a prayer, thanking whatever god could be up there for whoever had lived in the old, ranch house.

Quinn packed as many cans as she could into her backpack, placing the rest in Rachel's before waking the smaller girl up.

"C'mon, Rachel. We've gotta move on."

Rachel rubbed her eyes sleepily.

"Quinn?"

"Yes. It's Quinn, Rach."

"Hmmm," Rachel groaned. "I like Quinn. She smells good."

"Th-thanks, Rach. But you've gotta get up."

"Mkay, Quinn. But only for you."

"Alright, Sadie. Thank you."

After Rachel had woken up, Quinn packed up the quilt.

"Ready?"

"Yeah," Rachel said still a little sleepy.

Quinn picked up her backpack, tossing it over her shoulder, and opened up the door.

"Fuck."

There were at least twelve creepers wandering around the field behind the house. Rachel leaned around the taller girl, biting her lip when she saw it.

"What do we do?"

"I don't—"

One creeper fell to the ground, an arrow embedded in its head. Three more fell before Quinn saw a woman streak out of the trees. She was lanky and thin, blonde hair loose in the wind.

"You've gotta be kidding."

The girls saw a muscular brunette, taking off after the blonde, machete in her hand. Rachel bounced up and down behind Quinn.

"It's them! Quinn, they're okay!"

_BOOM_

A shotgun shot rang out over the field and Quinn saw her two friends drop to the ground. Creeper after creeper fell to the ground as the shots rang out.

"Oh god," Quinn mumbled.

A group of four people walked out from the opposite end of the wood. Quinn rocketed out the door, making a beeline for Santana and Britt. Rachel was on her heels.

The group approached, each holding handguns with rifles strapped to their backs. The way they looked made the blonde nervous.

"Rachel!" Brittany squealed, leaping up and throwing her arms around the smaller girl, placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek.

Quinn reached down and pulled Santana up.

"Are you guys okay?"

"We're good. Or at least we would be if those morons hadn't shot at us!" Santana called out to the group.

A tall, incredibly muscular Asian man led the group.

"Oh my god."

"What are you doing here?"

"We're looking to go ice skating," Santana said, rolling her eyes. "We're trying to fucking _survive_ just like the rest of the world who's still breathing."

"Mike?"

"I don't know you," the lanky boy stated firmly.

"Yes you do, Mike Chang. I'm Rachel. I was dating Finn."

He raised his gun, pressing it to Rachel's forehead.

"I do _not_ fucking know you."

Quinn's heart seized up.

"I can see that you've changed."

"Shut up," he commanded.

Quinn, Santana, and Brittany moved to stand right behind Rachel.

"Mike," Rachel started calmly.

"Did you not hear me? I said _shut up._"

He pressed the gun harder to the girl's head. A tall blonde man with a six pack visible under his dingy, grey tank moved forward.

"Mike, do you know this girl?"

"I knew her boyfriend. Remember that creeper in a campsite? That was him."

"Finn," Rachel whispered.

"You left him for dead."

"I didn't—"

"I was with him before he ran over to your house. It's your fucking fault he's dead."

"Mike, he told me to run, he—"

"You killed him, Rachel."

Quinn whipped her knife from her belt and darted forward, pressing to blade to the boy's prominent Adam's apple.

"Say another _fucking_ word to her, and I'll tear your throat open," Quinn roared.

The three from Mike's group whipped their rifles around, aiming them at the blonde. Mike held his hands up in surrender.

"Drop your guns," Quinn commanded. "Now."

The blonde man looked toward Mike for an answer.

"Do it, blondie," Mike challenged. "Cut my throat out, you stupid bitch."

Quinn dragged the knife over his skin, making a shallow cut.

"Quinn!"

Mike screamed out.

"DROP YOUR FUCKING GUNS OR HE DIES."

All of Mike's group tossed their weapons to the ground. Quinn nodded toward Santana and the girl stepped forward, frisking Mike's companions. She pulled three more guns from them, dropping them on the ground.

"Quinn, please," Rachel cried. "We don't have to do this."

"He was going to put a bullet in your head, Rachel. If he wants to act like a maniac, I will too."

"I agree, Rachel," Santana said. "If it's you or him, I pick you."

Mike panted, squirming in Quinn's grip, trying to get loose. The blonde held him firm, pressing the knife harder to his neck.

"I'll let you go if you leave us _alone_," Quinn hissed.

Mike nodded. Quinn let her grip slip off the boy and she took a few steps back, slipping a hand into Rachel's.

"You're loyal to your group," Mike told them. "I respect that."

"Mike, we can't afford more people in our group," a thick, black woman told him.

"Four is more than enough," an Asian girl agreed, stepping forward.

"Guys," the blonde started. "We don't have to kill them. They seem fine. We'll leave them alone, they leave us alone."

"Shut up, Sam."

"No, Mike," the blonde retaliated. "You don't get to make this decision by yourself. We can't just kill people."

Mike raised an eyebrow at the blonde, challenging the man to continue speaking.

"If you want to act like a maniac, go ahead. But I won't stand behind it."

Sam turned and stepped toward the opposite group, standing behind Santana. Brittany grinned, patting the boy on the back.

"I'm with Mike. We look out for our own," the Asian woman said, wrapping an arm around Mike's waist.

"Sam, come on, boo," the black woman pleaded. "Mike's always provided for us. He's made sure things were okay."

"I will not let the walkers turn me into a monster. I won't let this world change me."

"Then you're out, Sam," Mike said with finality.

"Mike, please."

"You want to leave with Sam? Fine. Me and Tina don't need you, Mercedes."

The woman looked confused, glancing back and forth.

"I'm not down with killing people I don't even know," Mercedes stated, moving to stand next to Sam.

"San, does this mean we get new friends?"

"Not now, Britt," Santana mumbled.

Mike picked up his guns, handing Sam's and Mercedes' to Tina.

"Mike, please," Rachel said to the boy. "You weren't always like this. It doesn't have to be like this."

The Asian boy turned toward Rachel, frowning, before turning and walking off toward the woods, Tina trailing behind.

"Sorry about that," the blonde boy started. "I'm Sam."

"Were you on the football team at McKinley High School?" Quinn asked, squinting at the boy.

"Yeah. I was the QB," he responded. "Why?"

"Did you know Puck?"

"Of course. Crazy dude, Mohawk, had a chest like a fucking body builder?"

"That was him. I was his girlfriend. I'm Quinn."

"I thought I recognized you," Sam stated, offering the girl his hand.

Quinn took it, smiling.

"Well, Mercedes and I are gonna head back to Mike's camp and see if we can't mend things. I couldn't just let him kill you guys, but he's provided for me and Mercedes."

"Be careful!" Rachel called as the couple turned to walk after Mike.

"Thanks! You guys take care!"

Rachel pulled Quinn in for a hug.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, Quinn Fabray."

"No promises, Sadie."

"God, get a fucking room," Santana sneered. "You hit that yet, Berry?"

"Not yet, but I know she wants me," Rachel joked, giggling.

"Quinn, do I get to kiss you again? I really want to."

All heads whipped around to face Brittany.

"Um… I don't know," the blonde started.

Brittany pouted her lips.

"Oh, why the heck not?" Quinn said, shaking her head and opening her arms to the girl.

Rachel and Santana sported equally appalled looks as Brittany took a couple steps forward, locking her lips with Quinn's. Brittany smiled, pulling back before pulling Quinn in for a hug.

"Did she just…?"

"Honestly, Berry, I think the adrenaline is making me hallucinate."

"What?" Quinn asked, face flushed. "No one can say no to Brittany."

Santana shrugged, wrapping an arm around Quinn's shoulders.

"I missed you guys."

* * *

**A/N:** Sometimes I have to make something a tinge unrealistic. I know Quinn probably wouldn't kiss Brittany, but who can say no to Britt? Come on. Really. Okay, maybe I just wanted some sweet lady kisses in there. Is that a crime? Let me know. Review!


	19. Chapter 18

Mike's Camp

"What the hell was that, Mike?" Sam demands, stalking into camp.

Mike glared at him, turning away.

"Mike, I've never seen you like that," Tina admitted quietly, stroking the boy's arm.

"Just leave me the fuck alone!"

Tina and Sam's eyes widened as they watched the boy shoulder a gun and walk off.

"I don't understand why he's acting like this," Sam hissed.

"He was close to a lot of people that he lost. Finn was his best friend. He tried to save his parents and his grandmother but they were all torn apart in front of him. I found him beating a walker's skull to a pulp in a camp that had been torn apart. He didn't talk for days," Tina admitted.

"I… I had no idea," Sam stated.

"He doesn't like to talk about it. I dated him for a while in high school. He really guarded, but he wasn't always that way."

Mike came back fuming, throwing his rifle down before stalking into the tent he shared with Tina.

"Let me talk to him," Sam requested.

"Just be careful. If you push him, he'll push back."

Sam nodded and walked into the tent.

"Get out, Sam," Mike grunted.

"Mike, dude, just talk to me. Please. I just want to understand what happened."

"She left him," Mike growled. "She fucking left him for dead. He was my best friend and she didn't do shit to help him."

"You don't know that, Mike."

"Yes, I do. I know what it looks like to fight for the people you care about. There were tire tracks where she tore out of there. That selfish bitch."

"That doesn't mean she should be shot for it," Sam retaliated.

Mike grumbled, angrily punching his pillow.

"When my little sister disappeared, I was angry too, Mike," Sam admitted. "She was at home when I got there and I scooped her up and we ran. I was supposed be there for her. I'm her big brother. But they got to her when I was asleep. She stepped out of the tent at night. I heard her scream and I ran out there. But I didn't get there fast enough."

"They got my mom when she was running with me. My parents couldn't keep up," the boy admitted. "I tried to fight them off and give them more time. After the walkers got them, I just lost it. I carried my grandma on my back. But I tripped when they were on our heels. She fell off my back and they grabbed her. She was bitten before I could grab her."

The boys sat in silence before Sam spoke.

"Mike, I was angry. I was just swinging an old shovel at those things, trying to make them hurt like I did. But I realized that being angry was dangerous. I was avoiding finding people. I wasn't eating. I had to move on."

Mike nodded.

"It just hurts, you know? I did everything I could and I lost all of them. And to see someone I cared about just… torn apart. And tire tracks leaving…. I just got so angry. I wanted her to feel what I felt. It wasn't fair. Finn tried so hard. And she left."

"He probably did what you would do for Tina. He probably told her to go while he fought."

Mike's shoulders slumped forward and tears spilled down his face.

"I just miss them, you know? My parents, my grandma, Finn… And they're all just… Gone."

Sam wrapped an arm around Mike's shoulders.

"I know, dude. I know. But you've got me. And Tina. And 'Cedes. We're fighters. And we're gonna make it. You can't let this world change you."

Mike nodded, straightening up.

"You're right, Sam," Mike whispered. "I'm so sorry, dude."

"You're good, Mike. You're a good guy. Just don't let your anger rip tear you up. We're here for you."

* * *

**A/N: **I hope that worked for you guys like it worked in my head. Thanks for reading! Please review! I've been pretty insecure about what I've been writing lately so any feedback at all would be very helpful!


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N: **So this chapter is a little less dramatic. I just needed to make Quinn feel awkward again, okay? It's just too much fun. This is a pretty fluffy, nonsense chapter. Thanks for keeping up with the fic! I really, truly appreciate it.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Any corrections or anything, feel free to PM me.

* * *

Quinn Rachel Berry's Camp

Santana had unrolled her and Brittany's sleeping bags. All four girls were laying, sprawled out on the floor of the old ranch house.

"Quinn kissed Brittany," Rachel giggled.

"I did not. Brittany kissed _me_."

"Same thing, Q."

"Hey! If Britt came to you and asked for a kiss, could you say no?" the blonde said, blushing redder than she would ever admit.

"I liked it," Brittany said, smiling.

"Did you like it, Quinn?" Rachel asked, grinning.

"I… I didn't _dislike_ it."

"You're so gay, Q."

"I am not! I was dating a guy! I had sex with a guy!"

Santana shook her head.

"That doesn't mean shit. I've fucked more guys than I have girls. And I'm gayer than Ellen DeGeneres."

Quinn was shocked. They were going to claim she was gay whether she liked it or not.

"It was once kiss!"

"That's not what you told me!" Rachel squealed.

"Okay. Two kisses. And it's _Brittany_!"

"You totally loved locking lips with B."

Rachel giggled and high-fived Santana.

"Would you ever have sex with Britt?" Santana smirked.

Quinn's mouth fell open.

"NO!"

"Hey!" Brittany pouted.

"I mean-! I—"

"She would," Rachel concluded, nodding to Santana.

"Who wouldn't? B is a hottie."

"I would never have sex with a woman."

"You _so_ would, FabGAY."

"That isn't funny, Rachel."

"You're so gay, Q."

"I AM _NOT_ GAY!"

Just then, there was a knock at the door.

"Come in!" Rachel called.

Mike stood in the doorway, trailed by Tina, Mercedes, and Sam. Quinn gritted her teeth, her face still a deep crimson.

"What do you want?" Quinn seethed, standing up.

"Well, he doesn't want to have sex with you," Sam stated, grinning. "Or maybe he will since you're so not gay."

Rachel stood and high-fived Sam, carefully side-stepping Mike.

"I… I'm sorry, Rachel. I was angry. And I took it out on you and your group."

"I fully accept your apology, Mike. Thank you."

Quinn's jaw dropped yet again.

"You're going to forgive him for almost killing you?"

"Yes, Quinn. I believe he's sorry for his actions. And I understand. This world can change people."

"Thanks, Rachel," Mike stated sheepishly. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome, Mike."

"Well, we'd better head out. We're headed back to Lima. We're going to live out of different houses. I know a lot of people there didn't have time to gather much food before they bolted. And we know the area better than any creepers could."

Rachel leaned forward and hugged Mike around his middle.

"Be safe, Mike."

"You too, Rachel."

Brittany watched the two hug before bouncing forward, placing kisses on the cheeks of each of Mike's companions.

"Here," Mike offered, pulling a gun from its holster. "You guys may need this."

Santana leaned forward and took it, nodding. Tina, Mercedes, and Sam each handed over a handgun and a couple boxes of ammunition. Brittany and Quinn turned the guns over in their hands, setting them down on a run-down table.

"Thanks, Mike," Quinn said, still wary of the boy. "I hope things work out for you guys."

The groups exchanged hugs before Mike led his group out the door.

Santana stood, pointing her gun at the wall, turning it sideways.

"Santana, put that down," Rachel demanded, frowning.

"I want to get a feel for it."

"Put it down! No guns in the house!"

"Jesus, Rachel," Santana frowned, putting the gun down and raising her hands up in surrender. "It's down, you happy?"

"Yes. Very."

Santana mumbled about Rachel being ridiculous.

"Do we know where we're headed?" Santana asked, sitting down on her sleeping bag.

"We?"

"We have to stick together, Quinn," Brittany insisted.

"Yeah," Santana replied. "We couldn't possibly separate you and your lover, Q."

Quinn flushed. Brittany winked at the girl.

"You don't have to have sex with me, Quinn. Kissing you is enough."

"I… O-okay?"

Rachel and Santana giggled.

"Since when are you two friends?" Quinn pouted.

"Since Berry and I had wicked hot se—"

"I don't want to know! I don't want to know!" Quinn cut her off, clapping her hands over her ears.

"What? You don't want to know about me eating Rachel into oblivion?"

"Santana, there's no need to be crude," Rachel scolded.

"Don't even, smurf. You loved it."

Rachel's mouth snapped shut and she frowned.

Quinn covered her face, shaking her head.

"Let's play truth or dare!" Brittany shouted, hopping up and down.

"I'm down."

"That sounds like an acceptable way to pass the time."

"Q? You in?" Santana asked.

"I probably don't have a choice in the matter, do I?"

"Nope."

"Fine. I'm in."

"Britt, you start."

"Rachel! Truth or dare!" the blonde called, plopping down on her sleeping bag.

"Truth…"

"Did you like having sex with San?"

"Of course. I found it very enjoyable and I intended to reciprocate were it not for Quinn's interruption."

Brittany's brow furrowed.

"San? What's reciprocate mean?"

"She said she would've totally done me too if Q hadn't walked in."

"Oh. Why didn't she say that?"

"Santana! Truth or dare."

"Dare. I'm no pussy."

"Hmmm," Rachel started, tapping her chin exaggeratedly. "I dare you to lick the bottom of Brittany's foot."

"That's disgusting, Berry."

"You have to do it, Santana," Quinn smirked. "Those are the rules."

Santana cringed and touched her tongue to the bottom of Brittany's bare foot.

"Oh come on, Santana," Rachel groaned. "That was pathetic."

Frowning, Santana dragged her tongue from Brittany's heel to her big toe. Brittany giggled.

"Blondie, truth or dare?"

"Truth."

"Would you ever consider having sex with a woman?"

"What?"

"I said," Santana spoke, rolling her eyes. "Would you ever consider having sex with a woman?"

"I… I don't know."

"Just answer the question, homo."

"I… Sure. Why not? The world is ending, anyway."

Santana and Rachel burst out laughing, slapping their knees.

"What?"

"I knew you were gay, blondie. I knew it."

"I am not gay!"

"You are."

Quinn frowned, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Brittany, truth or dare?"

"Dare!"

Quinn furrowed her brow in thought.

"I dare you to make out with Rachel."

"Okay!" Brittany practically vibrated in her seat.

The blonde leaned over, cupping Rachel's cheek before pressing her lips to the brunette's. Rachel squeaked in surprise and Brittany slipped her tongue in, gliding it over Rachel's. The brunette's eyes flickered shut and she pulled the tall blonde closer.

Quinn sat in shock, not completely believing what was happening. She felt a flare of anger and she grew annoyed for a reason she couldn't explain.

"That's enough, you two," Quinn snapped.

Brittany pulled back, pecking Rachel's lips one last time, smiling.

"Jealous, Q?" Santana grinned.

"No. It was just excessive."

"You're so gay."

* * *

**A/N: **I had to. I really had to. Please review! It makes the whole writing process so much easier for me, knowing what is good and what I should change. Thanks for the read!


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N: **First of all, I'd like to send a special thanks to ArmadilloPretzels, ConservEr1e, karlymorrig, SalGersGirl, and Bladed Darkness for your reviews. They mean the world to me. They really do. Secondly, I'm sorry I didn't update sooner today. My puppy has been a handful and I'm working on teaching her different things. And thirdly, I'd like to thank you for reading! This chapter is much longer than most of the other ones. I wanted to cut it short at first, but I figured out a better place to end it. I may not get another chapter out tonight, but we'll see. I hope you guys enjoy it!

**Ship Warnings: **Only hints of things today. A little Pezberry, Quitt, and I am seriously working on getting Faberry in there. You can't rush it, tho!

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot. I don't own the song used in this chapter. (Here, Here And Here by Meg and Dia)

All mistakes are mine. Feel free to correct me! Enjoy!

* * *

Rachel, Santana, Brittany and Quinn spent the night in the old ranch house, agreeing that they would leave to find more supplies in the morning.

Rachel had trouble sleeping on a blanket by herself, accustomed to sleeping next to Quinn. She sighed and rolled over for the fifth time that night.

"Smurfette, do you need me to bash your skull so you'll quit rolling around?" Santana hissed.

Santana was a light sleeper. Normally she'd just ignore whatever noise and movement there was but it seemed like every time she was on the brink of sleep, Rachel would roll over, startling the girl awake.

"I can't sleep, Santana."

"I can see that," the girl responded, rolling her eyes.

"Santana?"

"Yes, Smurfy?"

"Will you sing to me?"

"What?"

"Sing. It's the act of—"

"I know what it is!" Santana whispered angrily. "Why the hell do you want me to sing to you?"

Rachel fell silent and all that could be heard was the soft breathing of the sleeping blondes.

"It helps me sleep," Rachel confessed.

"Then sing yourself to sleep."

"Santana…," Rachel whined. "Please?"

"Can't I just give you an orgasm? That helps most people sleep."

"Seriously, Santana? You would rather have sex with me than sing?"

"Fine, Rachel. I'll sing you a damn song if you'll just shut up and _sleep_."

Santana wracked her mind. She hadn't even _heard_ music in what felt like ages.

The time of my life, a record of myself  
An accurate sketch of perfect health  
A roof on my head, shoes on my feet  
Plenty of room, plenty to eat

Been very far, made lots of friends  
And I love my mother, hope to see her again  
I'm a wanderer now, sorrow befalls me  
I laugh often so I suppose I'm gonna be fine

Mozart he said "there's nothing to composing"  
And that's all we do  
We just write and play and write and play and write and...

Here, here and here  
He pointed to his heart and mind and ears  
He said "here, here and here"  
He pointed to his heart and mind and ears

Here, here and here  
He pointed to his heart and mind and ears  
He said "here, here and here"  
He pointed to his heart and mind and ears

Mozart he said "there's nothing to composing"  
Yeah, yeah, yeah  
Mozart he said "there's nothing to composing"  
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Mozart he said "there's nothing to composing"  
Yeah, yeah, yeah  
Mozart he said "there's nothing to composing"  
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Santana could hear Rachel snoring softly across the room and she rolled over and headed back to sleep.

The next morning, the girls packed up their blankets, split two cans of baked beans, and left the ranch house.

Santana carried both her and Rachel's guns. Rachel refused to carry the weapon, insisting that unless she had the proper training, she would not carry a firearm. Brittany had her gun tucked into the back of her jeans, preferring instead to carry her crossbow. Quinn left her hands open, keeping her eyes peeled for unexpected movement.

The girls continued west.

"Damn, I wish we had a car," Santana groaned, dragging her feet. "I'm sick of walking."

"If we head south, we'll hit a highway. We could probably find a car there."

Everyone turned, giving Brittany confused looks.

"B, do you know where we are?"

The tall blonde nodded, brows furrowed.

"I thought everyone knew where we were."

Santana fought the urge to slap her own forehead.

"The highway is just south of here. I recognize that tree," the blonde told the group, pointing to a tree that looked exactly like the rest of them.

"You're sure, Brittany?" Quinn asked warily.

The blonde nodded, taking the lead. The others followed, not really believing the blonde.

Half an hour of walking later, they walked onto a paved highway filled with cars.

"How did you-?"

"I told you! I recognized that tree."

Quinn scratched her head, starting to just accept that the blonde had phenomenal instincts.

The group found a sturdy looking old jeep that still had the keys in the ignition. Rachel sent up a prayer, thankful that they had found some way of moving that didn't involve using her legs anymore.

"Q," Santana called. "You and the smurf see what's in these cars. You might be able to find supplies."

"What are you gonna do?"

"Siphon some gas," the brunette said, smirking.

Rachel frowned, utterly opposed to illegal acts.

"It's fine, Rachel," Quinn joked. "I'm pretty sure we won't get arrested."

The girls filled the trunk with supplies they'd found in the empty cars. Brittany followed Quinn and Rachel, crossbow gripped tightly in her hands.

Santana siphoned enough gas to last them for a while.

The four girls hopped in the vehicle and headed west, weaving in and out of the stopped cars. Quinn rolled down her window, enjoying the wind against her face. Rachel was scanning radio stations, trying to find one that wasn't static. After looking for fifteen minutes, the girl gave up.

"I can't believe these people didn't have _any_ Britney Spears," Brittany complained, flipping through a CD book.

"No Broadway either, sorry Berry," Quinn winked.

Rachel stuck her tongue out at the girl. Santana drove in silence, enjoying something that felt semi-normal. Except for the fact that there were cars scattered all over the road.

Eventually, there were so many cars that Santana used a turn around to move to the other side of the road.

About an hour later, the girls hit a road block.

"Now what?" Santana asked, opening up an old bottle of Gatorade and taking a sip.

"We should see what's on the other side. I think they tried to keep the creepers out," Quinn stated, squinting at the barricade.

Rachel hummed songs from Les Mis to herself.

The girls got out of the jeep, packing as much into their backpacks as they could. Brittany vaulted onto the roof of a car and looked over the military style wall.

"It looks like the road is empty on the other side. I see some creepers but nothing we can't handle."

Santana nodded, helping the blonde down.

"Looks like it's time to climb then."

Brittany ran through the wall-to-wall cars, looking in each window.

"Q," Brittany called. "You were a cheerleader, right?"

"Yeah. I don't see what that has to do with anything, though."

Santana caught Brittany's eye and nodded.

"You ever done a two person basket toss, blondie?"

"Of course, I have. My team won nationals ever year."

"You and I will toss B up. She's looking for something to—"

"I found an old sheet, San!"

"That'll work, B. Bring it over."

The girls tore the sheet, making a makeshift rope.

"Five, six, seven, eight!" Quinn counted loudly.

Brittany stepped onto locked arms and was thrown high in the air. She flipped once, grasping the top of the barricade. She pulled herself up easily, unrolling the sheet-rope and tying it to a metal bar.

"Climb up!"

Rachel went first, struggling to find her footing on the wall. Quinn stood below the girl, watching her every move. Once she'd made it, Santana headed up, then Quinn.

The four girls sat, sweating on the top of the wall, looking down.

"Oh shit."

Creepers moved in a mob, dragging themselves, pushing toward the wall.

"There weren't that many when I first looked…," Brittany stated, frowning.

"Looks like we need a plan B…"

"Q, you see that military jeep?"

"There's no way, Santana. Even if we could throw Brittany a hundred yards, we'd never be able to get her that far."

"I'll do it," the short brunette piped up.

"You'll do what, exactly?" Quinn questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"If you guys move to the southern side of the wall and make tons of noise, I can sneak through and make it over there."

"Rachel, there has to be at least fifty creepers down there. There's no fucking way," Santana told the girl, eyeing her nervously.

"I'm the smallest, quietest one here. And I may not have Quinn's endurance, but I'm fast."

The group looked at each other, frustrated that they had no other options.

"Okay," Santana agreed.

"What? No!" Quinn argued. "I will _not_ let you do this, Rachel. It's a death sentence!"

"I'm doing it, Quinn. You three move down the wall, I'll signal you when to start yelling. Make as much noise as you can. Scream. Yell. Bang on the wall. Brittany, you use the guns and your crossbow to cover me. I'll try to pick up your arrows as I go, but the goal is the jeep, understand?"

Quinn looked back and forth between Brittany and Santana. The two girls nodded and Quinn shut her eyes in defeat.

"O-okay," Quinn sighed.

The three girls shuffled, scooting down toward the southern end of the wall. Rachel waved her arm and they started yelling, screaming, and whacking their knives on the metal.

Rachel watched as the creepers moved toward the noise, slowly forming a path between her and the jeep.

Rachel used the sheet and slid down the wall, taking off toward the car as quickly and quietly as possible. She felt invisible, running just mere feet behind a wall of creepers that could devour every inch of her flesh in seconds.

Brittany watched, still yelling. She took down one creeper, seeing Rachel rip the arrow out of its head, still running.

Quinn felt her heart seize up every time a creeper so much as flailed toward the short brunette. She screamed and yelled, making wild movements, hitting her knife against the wall.

Brittany took down three more creepers, locking another arrow in place. Rachel picked up two more arrows, now just a couple yards from the vehicle when three creepers moved toward her, headed toward the noise. She glanced up at Brittany who pulled her gun from her jeans. She shot all three of them in record time and Rachel got into the Jeep, slamming the door. A couple creepers banged their dead hands against the bulletproof windows.

Rachel closed her eyes, willing there to be at least one gallon of gas in the vehicle. The car rattled to life, and Rachel shot her fist in the air. She wheeled the vehicle around, headed straight for the wall. She bowled creepers aside, smashing them against the concrete. Quinn, Santana, and Brittany scrambled to the sheet-rope, climbing down and sprinting toward the car.

Rachel threw a door open and Quinn scrambled in, Santana sliding across the hood to the other side. Brittany shot creepers around her before pulling herself into the vehicle.

"Gun it, Berry!"

The car whipped around, smashing more of the dead beasts, engine revving loudly.

Brittany reached down, grabbing her calf, pulling it away to reveal blood.

"Shit, Brittany! Did they get you?"

Quinn whipped her shirt off, pressing it to the wound.

"I think I cut it on my way down the wall," the blonde replied, eyes wide with fear.

"It's okay, B. It'll be fine. It's just a cut."

Tears slid from the blonde's eyes.

Quinn pulled another shirt from her bag, tearing it into a long strip, wrapping and tying it around the other girl's leg.

"We made it," Rachel said reverently.

"But my leg—"

"Will be fine, Britt," Quinn replied firmly, pulling the girl's leg onto her lap.

Quinn leaned over and pecked Brittany on the cheek, sliding her hand into the blonde's.

"It'll be fine."

* * *

**A/N: **Drama! I can write drama, right? I think I did okay. Let me know! Review, please! It seriously helps. And if you don't, that's cool too. I appreciate the read anyway! Thanks, guys!


	22. Chapter 21

**A/N:** So you all may hate me for what you read in this chapter. In fact, you probably will. And I'm okay with that. Maybe your hate will drive you to keep reading. Or you'll quit reading this. Either way, I knew what I wanted to write when I started this and I'm not going to be like RIB and change my mind based on readers. Sorry, guys. But everything I write, I write for a reason. Except for making Quinn feel awkward. That I do because I'm a little bit of a sadistic writer. Trust me, things will all work out in the end.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are my own. But I'm okay if you point them out to me. Enjoy!

* * *

Over the next few days, the girls watched Brittany closely. The girl seemed alright, limping slightly on her gashed leg.

The wound hadn't formed a scab yet and Quinn was growing concerned.

The hazel-eyed blonde was the only one who'd seen the wound, not wanting to worry the other girls. It wasn't bleeding as profusely as it was originally, but it was still constantly seeping blood.

Brittany also wasn't eating as much, saying she just wasn't as hungry.

None of the girls had really seen the infection take hold of anyone. They'd seen the aftermath, but never the process. Quinn, being a bit of a science buff, knew a cut like Brittany's should have scabbed over by now, or at least formed some kind of skin.

The taller blonde seemed okay though, her temperature seemed normal and she was by no means sick.

Santana and Rachel were convinced she was just fine. Quinn watched the girl like a hawk.

Two weeks later, Brittany still seemed okay. She was barely limping, and she was as bright and sunshiny as ever.

But her laceration was still slowly seeping out blood. Quinn demanded that the taller girl drink water almost constantly to replenish her blood supply.

The girl's appetite was increasing, focused mostly on proteins, Quinn noted.

Two days later and still no improvement, Quinn decided it was time to talk to Santana.

"S, I need to talk to you," Quinn told the girl quietly.

Santana looked concerned, and a little miffed, but nodded and followed the girl outside.

"What is it, Fabgay?" the brunette asked, rolling her eyes.

"I… I think Britt may be infected."

"What are you talking about?" Santana said soberly. "B is fine."

"I know it looks that way, but her cut still hasn't scabbed over. It's been bleeding. Well, oozing now. But no scab. Nothing."

"It probably just needs some air or something."

"Santana, please."

"No, Quinn. Brittany is not going to become one of those things. She won't. She _can't._"

"I think it's possible she has some of the infection in her system. But it's moving slowly. I heard most people who are infected change within a few days. Maybe one of the creepers rubbed their dead goo on the fence and—"

"_No._" the tan-skinned girl stated firmly.

"Santana, we need to be reasonable about this. I've been watching her. She pretty much only eats meat now. She says she doesn't like the canned vegetables and prefers meat, but I haven't seen her touch anything green in days."

"So what? She's just tired of the canned shit. Big deal."

"Santana, it just doesn't make sense."

"Brittany," the girl started, moving closer to the blonde. "Is. _Not_. Infected."

The fiery girl stomped off, back into the old house they'd made shelter in. Quinn sighed frustratedly. She'd just have to pay attention.

Quinn found an old bottle of rum in the old house and decided it'd be the best thing they had to clean out Britt's leg. The blue-eyed blonde looked excited at the possibility.

"Will I get drunk if you pour that on my leg?"

"No, Britt," Quinn laughed nervously. "You won't get drunk. It's to try to clean it."

The tall blonde nodded in understanding, frowning slightly at the lack of inebriation.

"This is gonna sting, B."

Quinn poured the alcohol on the girl's leg and she tensed, eyes closing.

"It hurts, Quinn," she whined.

"I know, Britt. It'll pass."

The taller girl gripped Quinn's leg tighter.

"It's getting worse. It hurts so bad," Brittany gritted out through clenched teeth.

Quinn grew worried as the seconds passed. It should've worn off by now.

After what felt like hours, the pain subsided.

"You said it was just gonna sting," Brittany panted, irritatedly.

"It wasn't supposed to hurt that much," Quinn said, mystified at what she could be dealing with.

The girl had only volunteered around hospitals. And while she had planned to eventually work in medicine, she was nowhere near qualified to diagnose and treat yet.

"What's wrong, Quinn?"

"Nothing, Britt," the girl lied, biting her lip.

"Something's wrong. I know it is. You're always watching me with your eyebrows all funny. You're worried."

"I don't know what's wrong, Brittany," Quinn admitted. "But your leg should've healed more by now."

The girl nodded in understanding.

"I'm infected, aren't I?"

Quinn felt tears stinging her eyes.

"I don't know, B."

"I know Santana already talked to you about not freaking me out, like, ever. But I want to know what you think, Q."

"I," Quinn started, tears falling freely. "I think you may be infected. But it's moving slowly. I don't know why or how, but I don't think this is just any old cut."

"Okay," Brittany replied, chewing her lower lip. "Will you hold my hand? I'm kind of scared."

Quinn reached for the girl's hand, pulling her into a hug.

"It'll be okay, Britt. No matter what, I'll make sure it's okay. I'll take care of you."

"If I turn into one of those things, I want you to get rid of me, Quinn. I don't want to eat people."

"I know, Britt."

"Promise you'll do it?"

"B, I—"

"Promise?"

"I…," Quinn paused, tears streaking down her cheeks. "I promise."

"Then we don't have anything to worry about."

_Oh, Brittany._


	23. Chapter 22

**A/N:** I have already received some anger about how I am taking this story. And while I am sorry that I'm upsetting people, I already planned on things going this way when I started the story. I hope you enjoy this chapter and continue to read.

**Warning:** Rated M for a reason. Light smut and character death.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. If you have a question, comment, or complaint, please review.

* * *

A week had passed since Brittany and Quinn spoke and the tall blonde grew more and more lethargic. Instead of bouncing around, smiling and hunting, the girl retreated to her sleeping bag.

Santana would shoot Quinn looks of worry and fear whenever the blonde settled into her sleeping bag.

Brittany's bright complexion was slowly growing grey.

Another few days passed and Brittany spent almost all of her time sleeping.

"Q? Can we talk?"

"Sure, S," the girl responded, following her outside.

"It's Britt," Santana stated, pacing nervously. "She isn't eating. All she does is sleep. Is her leg infected? Have you been taking care of it?"

"San, it still looks exactly the same as it did when she first got it."

Santana nodded, wringing her hands.

"What do we do?"

"We wait. It's all we can do."

Santana dropped to her knees, tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"Why B? Why Britt?"

"I don't know, Santana."

"It isn't fucking _fair," _the girl whined helplessly, pounding a fist into the grass.

"I know, S. But there's nothing we can do."

"There has to be something. Anything. Did you clean it? Maybe an antibiotic or something…"

"Santana, I cleaned it a week ago and it nearly killed her it hurt so bad."

"I can't lose her."

"I know."

Brittany stopped leaving her bed. She almost stopped moving all together. The girls would sit in silence, watching the slowing rise and fall of her chest.

"S?" the blonde croaked out, weakly reaching out a hand.

"Yes, Britt?"

"I love you. I always did."

Santana gripped the girl's hand, tears streaking down her face.

"I love you too, B. Always."

"I'm so tired."

"I know," the girl sobbed, kissing the blonde's bony knuckles. "Just go to sleep, B. It'll be okay. I've got you."

"Okay. Tell Rachel and Q that I love them."

"I will, Britt," the girl choked out, kissing the blonde's forehead.

"Goodnight, San."

"G-goodnight, B. Sweet dreams."

The blonde passed with a smile on her face.

Quinn wiped at her eyes, one hand shakily holding the knife at her side.

"Santana, you need to go," Quinn told her calmly. "She made me promise. She didn't want to turn."

"No, Q," Santana defended. "You can't. She's gone. She isn't turning."

"You don't know, that Santana! None of us do!" Quinn yelled, tears blurring her vision.

"You can't, Quinn. You can't do that to her."

"San, she's gone. I have to. I swore to her that I would."

Rachel walked over, tears staining her own cheeks and cupped Santana's face.

"You have to let her, Santana," she whispered. "She promised, Britt."

Santana leaned into Rachel's palm and sobbed.

"Not in here. Outside," Santana insisted.

"Okay, S. Outside," Quinn conceded.

The blonde picked up Brittany's body and placed it outside in the softest patch of dry grass that she could find. She pushed the blonde's hair back away from her face and placed a soft kiss to the girl's lips.

"Goodbye, Britt."

The next three days were spent in silence. Quinn buried the body by herself, insisting that she didn't need help. Santana never left Rachel's side, sleeping on Rachel's blanket with her sleeping bag used as a quilt.

Quinn had never felt more alone.

Rachel was constantly holding the other brunette's hand, kissing her forehead.

Quinn's heart squeezed as she sat alone on her quilt, huddled against the wall.

"Rachel, I need you," Santana pleaded in a whisper.

"Santana, I—"

"Please," the girl sobbed. "Please, Rachel. I need to feel something. Anything but this."

Santana smeared her lips against Rachel's in a sloppy kiss, her hand gripping at Rachel's t-shirt. Rachel responded reluctantly, pressing her lips against the other girl's. They needed this.

Santana slid her hand under Rachel's shirt, pressing an open palm to the girl's heated skin. Rachel tore hear shirt off, putting it just above her head before reaching for Santana's clothing.

They stripped down and held each other close, tears falling against their shared pillow.

Santana cupped Rachel's breast, rolling her nipple between her fingers. Rachel moaned against her neck, urging her on.

The smaller girl gripped at Santana's back, dragging her nails down, begging for more.

Santana licked and bit her way down Rachel's neck, sucking where her neck met her shoulder.

"San—"

Her words were smothered in a wet kiss.

Rachel slid her hand down the tan-skinned girl's body, slipping between soaked folds.

"Rachel, please," she groaned, biting her lip. "More."

Rachel slid inside, rocking her hips against Santana's hip.

The taller girl's eyes rolled back as she rode Rachel's fingers. Rachel pressed her damp forehead to a muscular shoulder, curling her fingers, pressing deep.

The girl convulsed against her, clamping down on her fingers.

"R-rachel!" she called out, eyes tightly shut.

Rachel slowed her movements, letting the girl come down from her high. Santana slipped her hand down between Rachel's legs.

Rachel grabbed her hand, shaking her head.

"I… I'm not—"

Santana nodded, withdrawing her hand.

Rachel rested her forehead against Santana's chest, feeling the girl's breaths slow. They fell asleep pressed close to each other.

Across the room, Quinn's tears soaked into her pillow.

She felt so _alone_.

* * *

**A/N: **Everything happens for a reason here. I hope you guys understand. Also, I know the smut was kind of lame. My brain is moving slowly this morning. Thanks for reading. Please review.


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N: **I was a little stuck on this chapter. I got surprisingly upset after the previous chapter and just stumped myself on how to get the fic moving again. I hope you guys don't hate me too much for the last chapter. Thanks for reading!

**Ship Warnings: **Pezberry and a hint of Faberry.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Please review. Enjoy!

* * *

Rachel and Santana quickly became inseparable, much to Quinn's dismay. The two girls were constantly touching, stealing kisses, comforting the other when they got upset.

Quinn grew quieter, going about the day, completing various tasks in silence, barely acknowledging the other girls, let alone speaking to them.

"We should find a new place to stay," Quinn mumbled one day.

"I agree," Rachel simply stated.

Santana nodded.

The next day, they left the building that held too many memories for the three girls.

They traveled all day before they came across an old shed. There were a couple tools, and the floor was dirt, but it was good enough for now.

Quinn picked up Brittany's crossbow and headed out the door.

She managed to get one raccoon and two squirrels, remembering everything Brittany had taught her. She stood outside the shed, cleaning the meat for dinner, irritated that she could hear the two girls' moans emanating from inside.

She stormed inside, ignoring the girls as they grabbed at their clothing, trying to cover themselves. She grabbed the matches out of her backpack, making a fire in the corner to cook their dinner.

"Quinn!" Rachel squealed, using Santana's body to block her from view.

"What? It's like you two somehow believe that you have been quiet _every night_," Quinn hissed.

Rachel flushed red.

"What the hell is your problem?" Santana hissed, pulling on her t-shirt.

"_My_ problem? My problem is that I constantly do all of the work while you two _fuck_ all day long."

"Quinn!" Rachel protested, mouth agape.

"What? It's true. I'm surprised you aren't fucking attached at the hips. Because ever since Brittany _died_, you two have been fucking like prisoners during a conjugal visit."

"What the hell, Q?"

"Whatever. I'm out. You two have fun," Quinn mumbled, throwing her backpack over her shoulder and storming out.

Santana shrugged, letting the girl leave.

"Santana! Aren't you going to do something?"

"No," Santana deadpanned. "She can do whatever she wants."

Rachel sighed and pulled on her jeans before following the blonde.

"Quinn!" she called. "Come back!"

"Why? So I can watch you and Santana fuck more? So I can be ignored more? Fuck that, Rachel. I thought we were friends."

Rachel faltered.

"Quinn, please! I don't want you to get hurt!"

"Hurt? You're actually worried about that now? Oh. Maybe now that you don't have your head mashed into Santana's fucking vag, I guess you can see how fucking _isolated_ you've made me feel."

Rachel stood stock still, shocked at the blonde's words and the venom laced into them.

"Quinn," Rachel responded weakly. "Please just come back."

Quinn groaned and followed the girl back into the shed where Santana sat, finishing cooking the girls' dinner.

Quinn dropped her backpack on the floor.

"You done being a fucking drama queen?"

"You done fucking Rachel to the point where that's all you two can do?"

Santana mumbled about Quinn being jealous.

Rachel groaned. This wasn't going to be easy.

The girls spent most of their time in silence now, with Santana typically maintaining a respectable distance to the shorter brunette. The two girls still kept up their romance, much to Quinn's annoyance.

They split their daily work so that the three of them worked evenly.

One night, Rachel pulled a bottle out of her backpack.

It was the rum that Quinn had used on Britt's leg.

"I think we need to just… Forget for a while," Rachel suggested, holding the bottle.

Santana raised an eyebrow at Quinn as the girl nodded, taking the bottle and gulping down the alcohol.

They passed the bottle around until it was almost empty.

"Q, you need to get laid," Santana slurred, leaning heavily against the wall behind her.

"I don't need shit, Santana," Quinn responded, attempting to stand.

Rachel leaned against Santana's shoulder, nuzzling the girl.

"Will you two quit it?" Quinn said, irritated.

"What? We're not even doing anything!"

"You're eye-fucking and touching each other."

Rachel crawled across the tiny shed, and sat down next to Quinn.

"Is that better?"

Quinn nodded begrudgingly and Santana pouted.

Quinn slid her arm around the shorter girl, smirking at Santana's frown.

"Fuck you two," Santana snapped.

"You wish you could, S," Quinn retorted, grinning.

"Why the hell would I want to fuck you, Q?"

"I'm pretty hot."

Rachel nodded.

"Fuck that. You're crazy," Santana argued, knocking back more of the rum.

"Blondes do it better," Quinn sneered.

"B was pretty fucking great," Santana admitted.

"To Brittany," Rachel slurred, reaching for the bottle, and taking a swig.

"To B," Santana agreed, taking a swig of her own.

"To Britt," Quinn mumbled, taking one last gulp.

The three girls woke up in the morning to raging headaches. After a lot of arguing and cussing, they decided it'd be best of Quinn were the one to hunt. Even Quinn had to admit, she'd had a bit of a knack for it. But with a hangover, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to get a damn thing other than lost.

Quinn returned hours later with an opossum.

"How are we supposed to eat that, Fabgay?"

Quinn used an arrow to poke the animal.

"Skin it and cook it, I guess."

Rachel stared at the beast, its teeth showing, eyes still open.

"It's scary-looking. I'm scared to eat it."

"It's meat, guys. Like you could do any better."

Santana shook her head, eyeing the greasy looking thing.

"That shit is nasty, Q."

"It's meat! Who cares what it looks like? I'm sure it tastes the same as squirrel."

"I don't think I can clean it," Rachel admitted, taking a step back from the dead animal. "It's too weird."

"I'm with Rachel on this one."

"Hey," Quinn protested. "I got it. Which means I don't have to clean it."

Rachel and Santana duked it out, using rock, paper, scissors as their method of deciding.

"That isn't fair! You did that late!" Rachel protested, angrily.

"I wasn't late, Berry. You're just upset that you have to clean the demon rat."

"Five out of seven! It's only fair!"

"Hell no, shorty. You're on your own."

Rachel huffed and frowned.

"No sex for you," Rachel mumbled as she cautiously eyed the creature.

"Whatever, Rach. I'll abstain if it means I don't have to touch that thing until it looks like any other kind of meat."

Rachel walked around the dead animal for a good five minute, trying to figure out where to start.

"Quinn? Can you help me?"

Quinn sighed and got up to help the girl.

"Just use your knife and skin it, just like you would any other animal, Rachel," the blonde instructed.

Rachel made another circle around the creature, grimacing.

Quinn stepped forward and took Rachel's hands, guiding their movements over the dead animal.

"See? Cut here, and work the skin back and off," Quinn coached, holding Rachel's hands in her own as she guided the girl's sawing motion with her knife.

"Scoop out the guts, just like always."

Rachel flushed at Quinn's breath on her neck as she spoke, maneuvering the girl's hands in her own.

"See? Same as any other meat."

"Th-thanks, Quinn," Rachel said quietly, pecking the girl's cheek.

Quinn smiled for the first time in days.

"You're welcome, Rachel."

"When you two are done making out, would you mind fucking cooking the food? I'm starving!" Santana called.

Rachel rolled her eyes, winking at the blonde.

Maybe things really would be okay after all.

* * *

**A/N: **Like I said earlier, it was a little rocky, but who doesn't love a good dead animal to bring things back together, am I right? Please review. Thanks for reading!


	25. Chapter 24

**A/N:** Sorry for the late update. I got a little stuck on where to take this fic. I know exactly how I want it to end, but it's just a matter of getting there now. Thanks for being patient with me. And thank you for the recent follows! Huge thanks to my reviewers.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy.

* * *

"We need to keep moving. I'd hate to think that that huge hoard of creepers could catch up with us," Rachel addressed nervously.

"I'm not gonna argue, Berry."

"Me neither."

"I mean, I'd love nothing more than wiping their rotting asses off of the planet, but even _I_ am not that badass," Santana stated, smirking.

The girls chuckled.

"Alright then. Q, you take the rear, Rachel, you in the middle, I'll lead."

The girls agreed and packed up what little they still carried with them.

"I wish we still had the Jeep," Santana grumbled, trudging through the grass.

"We should've known that thing would guzzle down whatever gas was left in it," Quinn agreed.

Rachel sighed.

"Maybe we can find another car? We're not too far away from the highway."

"No," Santana and Quinn stated firmly.

"Why not?"

"The creepers are probably sticking close to the highway. Sound carries better out there," Santana mumbled.

"I suppose that makes some sense."

The girls continued walking for a few hours, Santana sporting a handgun, Rachel her knife, and Quinn, Brittany's crossbow.

"Should I try to hunt while we move?" Quinn offered.

"I guess it couldn't hurt," Rachel admitted.

Quinn nodded and raised the bow, surveying the ground for any movement.

BOOM

"Fucking Christ, _SHIT._" Santana screamed, falling to the ground, holding her side.

"Santana!"

The girls rushed forward, seeing blood seep out from under Santana's hand.

"What the fuck!?" Santana groaned, gripping her side.

"You've been shot!" Rachel exclaimed, tears coming to her eyes.

"No fucking shit, I've been shot!"

"Who's there?" Quinn called out, holding the crossbow tightly as she looked toward trees.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry!" a male voice called out, moving closer to them. "I didn't know! I thought you were creepers!"

"Fuck you!" Santana screamed out.

"Oh gosh, I didn't mean to shoot you! I didn't realize—"

"Just shut up and help her!"

Santana whimpered, clutching her side, her breathing starting to slow.

A tall man with curly hair appeared, holding a hunting rifle. He ran over and picked the tan-skinned girl up, holding her bridal-style in his arms.

"I'll get you to the house," he said. "Follow me."

They ran into the woods after the man.

"How do we know we can trust this guy, Rach?"

"I don't know, Quinn," she admitted. "But we don't have much choice."

They reached a house that somehow seemed perfectly intact. The grass was mowed, the windows were clean…

Quinn stared at the house, stopped dead.

"What the—"

"This is the house. Please, come in."

They followed the man inside and saw as he placed the girl on his kitchen table.

"Emma! Come quick!" the man yelled, running a hand through his oily curls.

A petite redhead appeared with yellow gloves on her hands, a wad of paper towels and a spray bottle clutched.

"Oh goodness," the redhead gasped, seeing blood on her table. "Will, what happened?"

"I… I shot her. I didn't mean to. I tried to keep the house safe. I thought—I thought they were dead walkers."

"Oh, that is a problem."

"What can you do to help her? We need a doctor!" Quinn seethed. "She's bleeding everywhere!"

"It'll be terrible to clean up," Emma mumbled.

"Fucking _HELP_ me, you dumb shits," Santana grumbled, sweat pouring down her face.

Rachel ran over, pushing Santana's hair back from her face.

"We need to see if the bullet went all the way through," Quinn stated, her face pale. "Then we'll need to sew it up and clean it."

Will and Emma nodded, unsure of how to proceed.

"Get me forceps, if you have them. A sewing kit, fishing line, and some kind of disinfectant," Quinn directed.

Emma nodded and scurried about, grabbing what the girl requested.

"Quinn, are you sure you can do this?" Rachel asked cautiously.

The blonde nodded, shrugging.

"If you want something done right," the blonde started, shrugging again before wiping the sweat off her forehead.

Rachel nodded, placing a chaste kiss to the girl's cheek, squeezing her shoulders.

All of the items were placed in front of the blonde, next to Santana.

"San, this is going to hurt. Probably worse than getting shot."

The brunette nodded.

"'m a badass, Q," the tan-skinned girl choked out, half smirking.

"I know you are, S."

The blonde cleansed the forceps in alcohol, taking a deep breath.

"Here goes," she said, face pale as she dug the forceps into the girl's side.

"AUGH FUCK!" Santana croaked, her hands twitching above her head.

"Stay still, S. I can feel the bullet."

"If this doesn't heal, I'm gonna kill you, Q."

"Almost… Got it!"

Quinn pulled out a bloody metal chunk, dropping it on the table with a dull thunk.

"Now I've gotta sew you up. This is also gonna hurt."

"Nothing could be worse than you jabbing shit around in my skin, Q."

Quinn threaded the needle.

"Ready?"

Rachel came over to hold Santana's hand, kissing the girl's forehead. Will and Emma stood by silently. Santana took a deep breath, nodding.

Quinn dug the needle deep into Santana's flesh, tuning out her groans. She pulled the skin together, knotting the line. She poured a good amount of rubbing alcohol and peroxide onto the wound.

Santana whimpered as Quinn pressed a towel over the crooked stitches.

"I'm gonna have to take those out after a bit. And I'll have to check it every so often, but it should be alright."

Emma pulled a blanket over the girl, scrubbing gently at the table where her blood had dripped.

"It'll be alright, S." Quinn whispered, kissing the girl's hand, tracing her thumb over the girl's knuckles.

Rachel sighed, putting a hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"It'll be alright," the brunette said, wrapping an arm around the blonde.

_I hope._

* * *

__Review.


	26. Chapter 25

**A/N:** I have to admit, this chapter is a little cracky. I guess it shows how I felt about certain characters in Glee. I hope things aren't quite as insane as I feel they may be right now. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did, writing it. I plan to wrap the fic up in a few more chapters, probably close to five. Faberry will happen. I promise.

**Disclaimer**: I own nothing but the plot.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Over the next few weeks, the girls stayed in the house of Will Schuester. Emma kept the house pristine… To an almost obscene point. Quinn would wander in the nearby woods, hunting and protecting the house.

Once Santana's wound was healed, for the most part, Quinn took out the stitches and the girls decided it was time to move on.

"You guys don't have to leave," Will told them, saddened.

"We're headed to California. Unfortunately Kansas won't cut it for us, sorry," Santana told the man.

"I… I just… I'd like it if you three stayed here. With me and Emma," Will confessed.

Quinn raised an eyebrow.

"And why is that?"

"I used to be a teacher. I miss having teenagers around. And Emma always wanted to have kids so—"

"Hold on, goldilocks. We are _NOT_ your kids. We're not your students. We're just here because you fucking _shot_ me."

Rachel moved to stand behind Quinn, concerned by the somewhat crazed look in the man's eyes.

"I just think it'd be nice for us to have some kids around," the man confessed.

"Now wait a second—"

"Okay. We'll stay," Quinn said quickly, cutting the fiery brunette off.

Santana and Rachel eyed the girl as if she had just grown six dicks out of her head.

The man clapped his hands excitedly, smiling.

"Great! I'll let Emma know!"

Will left the room, almost skipping at the prospect of having young girls around.

"Quinn, he looked like he could trap us in his basement and keep us there," Santana told the girl. "Why the _fuck_ did you say we'd stay?"

"Because I don't think he'd take 'no' for an answer. He creeps me out too, S, but I think it'd be easier to sneak out than argue with the guy," Quinn responded, shrugging.

Rachel bit her lip, grabbing Quinn's hand.

"I'm scared of him," the shorter girl confessed quietly.

"I think we all are, Berry."

"Yep," Quinn agreed.

"So… Sneak out tonight?" Santana proposed.

The two girls nodded.

"We're gonna have to be really quiet about it. I get a weirdo vibe from those two and I don't think they'll let us get away easily…"

That night, the girls packed their things, grabbing what they could from the immaculately clean kitchen, and headed toward the garage.

"We're taking a car if they have one," Santana told the girls. "I'm sick of fucking walking."

Rachel rolled her eyes, following the girl.

"Where are you going?"

The three girls whipped around, caught like deer in headlights.

Emma stood in the darkness, her unnaturally large eyes seemingly wider than usual.

"Will told me you were staying. We were gonna be a family."

Santana looked back and forth between Quinn and Rachel.

"We're leaving. We didn't want it to be like this. You guys creep us the fuck out."

"I thought you guys liked it here," Emma deadpanned.

"W-we did! We do! We just need to move on. You understand, right, Emma?" Rachel asked cautiously.

"I thought you were staying."

Quinn moved toward the garage door slowly, hoping the other two girls would follow.

"Will said you were staying. Please stay with us."

Rachel stood, somewhat shocked, grabbing Santana's hand.

"This just won't do," Emma said, moving toward the stairs, eyes still wide. "I'll have to let Will know."

"No!" Rachel jumped, looking toward the taller girl for an answer.

"Run!" Quinn called, pulling the girls into the garage, slamming the door closed.

Santana hopped in the hybrid car in the garage, starting it with the keys she'd swiped off the counter.

Quinn and Rachel pushed whatever they could in front of the garage door, blocking it from Will and Emma before running and leaping into the car.

"Hold on," Santana told the girls, jamming the gas down, smashing through the garage door.

"Santana! You didn't have to break their house!"

"Hey. You want to get out of here, right?"

She threw the car into drive, flooring the gas pedal.

The girls held onto the sides of the car, watching as Will sprinted out the front door toward the car.

He jumped onto the hood of the car and Rachel screamed. The man gripped onto the car's hood as Santana whipped the car around, trying to get the man to fall off.

Emma screamed at the door as the man was jolted around on the hood of her car. It probably had his skin oils on the paint now. That'd require a long wash.

Still, the man held on.

Santana spun the car out, desperately trying to whip the man off of the car.

They could hear him grunt whenever they turned the car a certain way. He couldn't hold on forever.

Eventually, he fell off the hood of the car and onto the gravel road.

"_GO GO GO!" _Quinn yelled, smacking the dashboard.

Santana tore off the property, gripping the steering wheel hard.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," Rachel whimpered in the back seat.

"It's okay. We're okay," Quinn told the girl, reaching over, cupping her cheek.

Rachel leaned her forehead forward, pressing it to Quinn's and closing her eyes.

"We made it," Rachel whispered, hands pressing over Quinn's.

Santana whooped, punching the steering wheel.

"We made it," Quinn agreed.

Rachel leaned forward, lips a breath away from Quinn's, meeting the girl's eyes.

"Fuckyeah!" Santana called, startling the girls apart. "California, here we come!"

The girls pulled away, cheeks flushed.

"California," Quinn whispered reverently.

* * *

**A/N: **California here we come! Thanks for reading! Please review!


	27. Chapter 26

**A/N: **Hey guys. I'm getting a little discouraged so I'll probably finish the story with shorter chapters. Sorry to disappoint, but I was hoping to get more of a response from readers. It's frustrating to put a lot into a fic and not even know how it's being taken by the people who are reading it. For those of you who have reviewed, I deeply appreciate it. I will probably write a few one shots after this. I wanted to write a Hunger Games/Glee crossover, but from what I've felt about this fic, I doubt that I will post it. I guess I'm not very into it anymore. But I will finish the fic.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy.

* * *

"Berry, I swear to god if you keep singing, I will personally reach back there and remove your vocal cords."

"Santana, there is nothing wrong with a rousing tune to lift our spirits after we've experienced rather traumatic events."

Quinn chuckled, putting her arm around the smaller girl. Rachel beamed.

"You can sing whatever you want _except_ those awful 'road trip' songs."

Rachel huffed and Quinn squeezed her shoulder, laughing.

"Just because you dislike my version of 'Ninety nine bottles of beer'—"

"Berry, no one should be singing 'Ninety nine bottles of vegan soymilk on the wall'."

"There is nothing wrong with my take on the song!"

"Quinn, can you kiss her and shut her up or something?"

Quinn flushed a deep red and Santana laughed.

"You're hopeless, Fabgay," Santana teased.

"Shut up, Lopezbian."

"Oh, like I've never heard _that_ one before."

"Santana, I would much appreciate it if you kept your eyes on the road."

"Berry, there is nothing for me to run into. We're driving through nothing."

"Nevertheless I believe it is important when operating a motorized vehicle—"

"OH JUST SHUT UP AND SING SOMETHING."

Quinn giggled, leaning over on the brunette's shoulder.

"What are you laughing at, homo?"

"I just thought about how you've been so much more irritated and I think it's because you haven't got laid."

"Fuck you, Q."

"You need some help with your lady troubles?"

"Shut the fuck up, Fabray."

"Language, Santana."

"Shut up. Both of you."

Rachel shrugged and leaned over, pressing her lips over Quinn's.

The blonde's eyes widened in response and she froze, unsure of how to react before pressing toward the shorter girl. Her stomach fluttered.

Rachel pulled back and chuckled at the blonde, whose eyes were still shut.

"Hey. What's going on back there?"

"I kissed Quinn," Rachel told Santana.

"You WHAT?" Santana screamed, almost veering off the road.

"Santana!"

"You macked on the gayest one here?"

"I gave her a short kiss on the lips, Santana."

"Oh my god. Q is so gay. Look at her! Her face is so fucking red!"

"Shut up and drive, S."

Rachel hummed the Rihanna song in response and the trio fell silent.

Quinn fiddled with the torn hem of her shirt, nervous about what had just happened.

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Santana told me to find a way for both of us to shut up. And you just looked cute."

Quinn flushed even deeper, unsure of how to respond.

"It's okay, Quinn," Rachel told her, smiling sadly. "I know I'm no Brittany."

"What?"

"I know you had feelings for Brittany. You kissed her. More than once."

"What?" Quinn asked, puzzled. "I didn't have romantic feelings for Britt. It was just hard to say no to her. And she's a good kisser, I guess."

"Wait… You didn't?"

"Not romantic feelings," Quinn told her, shrugging. "I mean, I loved her, of course. She was great."

"Oh."

Quinn nodded.

"Hey Lesbos," Santana says, the smirk clear in her voice. "Look."

Rachel and Quinn turned and looked out the window, gasping at the sight.

"Welcome to California," Rachel said.

"We made it," Quinn whispers, her hand finding a silver guitar pick in her pocket.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for reading.


	28. Chapter 27

**A/N: **This chapter I got a little more into. I don't want things to just kind of trickle off at the end. I had a plan for this fic and I don't want to let those of you who really do care about this to be disappointed. Please review. It encourages me to keep writing. This chapter is longer and this fic is nearing its end.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are mine. Enjoy.

* * *

The girls found a house that had been abandoned. It was someone's home. There were pictures still hung on the walls, the couch was worn and comfortable. The girls moved the table in the living room and set up their blankets, sleeping bags, and whatever blankets they found in the house.

"So where do we go from here?" Santana asked quietly, running her fingers over the cool zipper on her sleeping bag.

"I was thinking somewhere like LA. I just feel like a big city like that would have some kind of shelter or something."

"I agree with Quinn," Rachel whispered in response.

Santana nodded in the dark.

"Los Angeles it is then."

In the morning, the girls were much more well-rested than they had been in weeks. Santana stretched, arching her back, groaning.

Quinn sat quietly, her blonde hair a short, messy mop on her head.

Rachel was already up, milling about the kitchen, getting some canned food ready for breakfast.

"You guys will never guess what I found in the cabinet."

"Please tell me it isn't something dead," Santana yawned, scratching her neck before sitting down at the breakfast nook in the kitchen.

Rachel pulled a few jars out of the cabinet, setting them down on the table.

"Holy shit," Santana exclaimed, lifting the jar to her face, reading the label.

_PEACHES IN A LIGHT SYRUP_

"I can't even remember what a peach tastes like."

Rachel smiled, putting forks, taken from one of the drawers, on the table before passing out a couple more cans she'd found. Corned beef and hash, baked beans, and carrots.

The girls ate in silence for the most part, savoring the simple joy of eating something other than overcooked vermin.

When they'd finished, the girls eyed the two jars of peaches hungrily.

"Should we have them now or…?"

Rachel bit her lip, her stomach growling slightly.

"Looks like we're having a treat for breakfast," Quinn said, laughing.

They opened the jars reverently, placing the lids on the table.

Quinn passed the jar to Rachel who pulled out a golden slice of peach out of the jar, lifting it to her lips. The girl let out an ungodly moan at the taste, eyes rolling back. Quinn blushed and snorted, watching as she handed the jar to Santana.

The tan-skinned girl took a sip of the syrup, licking her lips. She dipped her fork in the jar, pulling out a slice of her own before nibbling on it, savoring the moment.

When the jar had circled back to Quinn, she took a deep inhale at the smell. Sweet, and syrupy.

She dug her fork into the soft flesh of the fruit, pulling it out of the juice, raising it to her lips. She ran her tongue over the fruit, pulling it into her mouth. Quinn groaned at the sweet taste, delighting in the sugary fruit.

Within minutes, the jar was empty and practically licked clean. The girls stared at the now very much empty jar, disappointed.

"We'll save the other for when we need a good pick-me-up," Rachel decided, getting up to put it in her backpack.

"Be careful!" Santana whimpered. "We don't want the jar to break!"

"I'm starting to think you're fruitier than I assumed you were, S."

Santana glared at her, flipping her off.

Quinn chuckled.

"So, LA?"

"To the City of Angels."

Hours later, the girls saw the sign, welcoming them to the city. Santana cheered. Rachel kissed Quinn's cheek, leaning out of her seat to kiss Santana's as well.

"Now what?" Santana asked, driving down the 405 South.

"I don't know," Quinn confessed. "I guess we drive until we see something."

The girls kept driving until they saw a military style wall part of the way into the city.

"Oh god. Not this again."

Unlike the last time, there were men patrolling the top of the wall.

Guns were pointed toward the car and Santana rolled down the window.

"State your purpose!" one of the men called out, his gun held tightly in his hand.

The girls got out of the car, putting their backpacks on.

"We're from Ohio," Quinn called. "We've just been looking for somewhere safe. We've been hiding and fighting."

"Are you infected?"

"No!" Santana called out.

The man nodded to a man next to him and a rope was lowered down to the girls.

"Climb up quickly. Once you're over the wall, you will be tested."

Rachel's brows furrowed but all three of the girls agreed. This was their best shot.

Santana was the first to climb up, using the wall as a brace. Her arms shook as she reached the top and a military man grabbed her and pulled her over. She frowned, wanting to shove him off, but refrained.

Quinn went up next, her hands burning with the friction from the rope. As she reached the halfway point, a man yelled.

"Infected!"

Several men turned toward the sound, guns held up toward the sound. Quinn turned to see a mob of creepers moving toward her and Rachel. She grunted as she struggled to pull herself up faster.

Rachel stood, pulling her knife from her side, glancing up nervously at the blonde.

The men shot down a few creepers, some missing and hitting their shoulders or chests.

Quinn's hands started to sweat as she pulled herself up.

"We need to get the rope up now!" one of the soldiers called.

"There's still one more down there! Just keep covering her!"

The men continued shooting at the creepers and more zombies appeared, following the sound, moving faster with each shot. Rachel started to pull herself up, struggling to hold onto the sweat-soaked rope.

Quinn was panicking. The creepers were so close to Rachel.

"C'MON, RACHEL! YOU CAN DO IT. PULL!"

The brunette whimpered, her hands starting to slip. Santana grabbed the top of the rope, yanking upward.

The creepers were right at Rachel's feet. The soldiers now being careful to shoot less and aim more.

Rachel felt something at her feet. She kicked her legs, desperate to pull herself up.

A creeper locked its hand around Rachel's ankle, groaning and pulling.

Santana grunted, feeling the weight at the end of the rope double. Quinn pulled harder, feeling like her arms would fall out of the sockets.

Rachel screamed.

She'd been bitten.


	29. Chapter 28

**A/N:** So, I would first like to start by thanking those of you who have supported me through this. I've still got a lot to learn about the world of writing fanfic, but I really appreciate those of you who kept on reading and reviewing. I appreciate those of you who followed or favorited. It spurred me on to keep writing. Secondly, I'd like to apologize. I'm sorry I took so long to come up with this ending. I tried a few times but every time it just felt forced and awkward. Thirdly, I'd like to say that while I tended to slack off toward the end, I am very proud of this piece of work. Topping off at 29,573 words, it is my longest piece of finished writing to date. Thanks so much to all of you who have read it. I hope to write more fic soon.

**Warning: **Character death and sexy fun. But not mixed together.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing but the plot.

All mistakes are my own, and for the last time, I ask that you enjoy!

* * *

"What do we do?" a soldier called out.

Quinn threw her body backwards, yanking on the rope, dragging a screaming Rachel up the wall. The smaller girl had tears in her eyes as she kicked, screaming, and clinging to the rope for dear life.

Quinn heaved again, pulling the girl just over the edge before diving forward to haul her up.

The blonde yanked her knife from her side, slicing through the rope.

She wrapped the rope around the shorter girl's leg, tying it tightly right above her knee.

"Where's the medical center?" Quinn demanded.

The soldiers looked back and forth at each other.

"She's infected. We were given orders not to allow any infected past the wall."

"Where the fuck is your medical center?" Santana bellowed, pulling Rachel up to her feet.

"Head down the wall, two streets down. It's right on the left."

Quinn leaned in and kissed Rachel's forehead, moving to her other side to help her hobble to the medic.

"Quinn," Rachel whimpered. "I was bitten."

"You're not gonna change, Rachel. I'm not gonna let that happen. It's going to be okay."

"Quinn, it hurts."

The blonde leaned over, pecking the girl's cheek before she pulled the brunette up, tossing her over her shoulder as she broke into a sprint.

Santana was right on her heels.

Quinn felt tears streaming down her face, but her legs carried her on. Her muscles ached and her hands burned, but she didn't stop. She wouldn't stop.

Santana panted, slowing down, bending over to hold her knees.

She watched as the blonde continued to sprint, never losing speed.

_C'mon, Q_

Quinn's knees gave and she stumbled, dropping to her knees with the shorter girl still slung over her shoulder. Her jeans tore but she stood up, forcing her body into a run.

At the medical center, Quinn set the girl down carefully on an open bed. A medic walked over, eyeing the blonde before looking at the crumpled girl on the cot.

"What's going on?" the medic asked, staring at the blonde.

"She was bitten."

The man staggered backward.

"We put the infected down. I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do."

Quinn sat against a wall, crying inconsolably. Rachel. Her Rachel.

Santana sat next to her, eyes glazed over, her hands twisted in the front of her shirt. She was numb.

Quinn curled up on the ground, tears falling onto the concrete below her.

Santana looked down at the blonde, eyes roaming over her form. She looked forward, a few tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

They could hear gunshots at the wall, people coughing or groaning in the center behind them.

Quinn's hands were bandaged, blood seeping through the wraps. Her knees were wrapped as well.

She'd torn her hands nearly down to the muscle trying to drag Rachel up the wall. The medics insisted she stay in the center for at least a few days to take care of her wounds, but the blonde refused. She just… couldn't stay there.

Santana handed the girl a notepad and a pen.

Quinn met the girl's teary eyes with confusion.

"I swiped it from the medics."

The blonde nodded, reaching out and taking it carefully in her gauzed hands.

"I figured you could write about it. I remember you mentioned it once. That you used to write."

The blonde nodded again.

Santana reached forward, pushing her hair back from the blonde's face.

"Tell our story, Q."

Months later, the girls were called to the center of the camp. They had been staying in a shared room in an old apartment building. Quinn's red quilt was draped over a thick comforter. Their backpacks were in the corner. The jar of peaches was kept on the bedside table.

They stayed in the same bed, unable to sleep without the comfort of each other.

"I wonder what they want us here for," Santana thought aloud, looking at the blonde.

"Probably some stupid announcement about when lights out is or something."

Santana slung an arm over the blonde's shoulders, kissing her forehead.

There were tables set up and the medics were spread out.

"We found an inhibitor for the virus," a thin man announced to the small crowd. "It won't allow us to cure those who have been infected, but it will keep anyone who has been vaccinated from becoming infected. With a few more tests, we will know how the infected react to those who have been vaccinated."

Santana smiled slightly, squeezing the blonde's shoulders. Quinn smiled softly back, leaning her forehead against the other girl's.

Both girls stood in line and were checked in, vaccinated, and released to go about their business. Quinn waited off to the side while she watched Santana talk to one of the doctors. Santana's face lit up with excitement and she walked briskly back over to the blonde.

"Come with me," Santana told the girl, leading her in the opposite direction of their apartment.

"Santana, no," Quinn said, pulling out of the girl's grip.

"Just come with me, Q. Trust me."

Quinn reluctantly followed the brunette toward the med center.

"Santana," Quinn started, slowing down.

"Quinn, trust me. Just trust me. Please."

Quinn shuffled forward, taking Santana's hand. Santana squeezed the clammy hand in her own and pulled the girl along.

They entered the center, Quinn practically vibrating with nervous energy. Santana pulled the girl forward to a curtained bed.

"Santana, let's just go. I don't want to be here."

The brunette rolled her eyes and yanked the curtain open.

A short brunette sat on the bed, a thin sheet covering her lower half. She was asleep with her hands tucked under her pillow.

"_Rachel,_" Quinn whispered reverently, dropping to her knees at the side of the bed.

Santana nodded, putting a hand on the other girl's shoulder.

"How? I mean, is she…?"

"She's alright, Q. After you stormed out of the center that night, I walked in and made some demands that may or may not have involved my 45."

Quinn sat, her hazel eyes filled with tears and confusion.

The short girl stirred, turning over toward the noise.

"Quinn?"

"Oh god," the blonde whispered, rushing forward, grabbing Rachel's hand. "I'm here. I'm right here. I'm never leaving."

"Well that's good, I suppose," the brunette murmured groggily. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," Quinn sobbed, kissing the girl's hand.

The brunette sat up suddenly, eyes widening.

"Quinn!"

She sprung forward, locking her arms around a teary blonde.

"You're here!"

"How is this—… How are you—"

"Oh," Rachel said, pulling back nervously.

Quinn whimpered at the loss of the girl's arms around her. This was absolutely unreal.

"I… I have to show you… You can't laugh. Or whatever."

"Rachel, I promise you. Nothing you could ever show me would change things."

Rachel pulled the blanket down, revealing that her leg had been amputated.

Quinn gasped, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, tears coming harder.

"I know. I've been in physical therapy. Santana only found out a couple of weeks ago that everything had gone okay. Doctor Wilson didn't want to give you a false hope if the virus spread. Honestly, were it not for the rope you tied, Quinn, I wouldn't be here."

The blonde sobbed into the cot, holding Rachel's hand.

"It's okay, Quinn. I understand if you don't feel the same about me now that—"

Quinn lurched forward and cut off the girl with a kiss. Her hands slid up to cup the girl's cheeks, thumbs stroking her skin softly.

"I love you, Rachel," the girl murmured. "I love you so much. God, don't ever leave. Don't ever leave me again."

Rachel's eyes shone as she held Quinn's hand to her face.

"I love you too, Quinn."

Santana leaned forward and closed the curtain around her friends, allowing them some privacy.

Quinn pressed kisses all over the brunette's face.

"If this is a dream, I never want to wake up."

"I'm here, Quinn. Well, most of me," the brunette tried to joke through her tears.

Quinn chuckled, gently wiping away the tears that had escaped the brunette's eyes.

"You're here."

Rachel stood carefully, taking steps toward the blonde.

The medical center had been supplied with random things from UCLA's hospital nearby. People had been making trips back and forth to the run-down hospital to stay stocked.

Quinn's hands had healed over, scarring badly. She held them out toward the brunette.

Rachel winced at her first, shaky step toward the blonde. The crude prosthetic would take some getting used to, but the doctor had done all he could to make it comfortable.

"Come on, Rach."

"I've done this before, Quinn," Rachel said, rolling her eyes as she hobbled forward.

"But it's a first for me. Indulge me a little."

"Would you like for me to fall so you can catch me? Would that be enough of an indulgence?"

"Shut up and come here."

Quinn smirked as Rachel frowned but continued forward. She took the girl in her arms, kissing where her neck met her shoulder.

"I still can't believe it."

"You saved me."

"You're here."

"I am indeed."

Quinn pulled Rachel into bed, grinning at the girl's squeal.

"Quinn, I'm still wearing my leg."

"Then take it off."

Rachel rolled her eyes, carefully removing her prosthesis.

The girls lay facing each other.

Quinn ran her hand over the brunette's cheek, reveling in the touch as the girl closed her eyes in response.

"Rachel?"

"Yes, Quinn?"

"I'd like to kiss you now."

"Okay."

Quinn leaned forward, pressing her lips to Rachel's. Rachel's eyes tightened shut as she smoothed her lips over the blonde's, pressing her body forward.

Quinn let her fingers move into the girl's hair, tangling her hand in it, holding the girl to her.

Rachel's hands moved to the blonde's hips, pulling their bodies flush against each other.

Their tongues slowly came into the mix, tangling together, sliding wetly over lips.

"Off," Rachel demanded, pulling at Quinn's shirt.

The blonde raised an eyebrow before stripping off her shirt, pulling at Rachel's in response.

The two disrobed and settled against each other.

Rachel gasped at the touch of skin on skin.

"I've waited for this for so long," Rachel murmured, intertwining her fingers with Quinn's.

The blonde nodded, unable to form a verbal response.

"Rachel you're so beautiful," Quinn choked out.

Rachel took Quinn's hand and slid it over her own skin, eyes fluttering shut.

The blonde took her time savoring every inch of skin that was offered to her. She ran her fingertips from a sharp hip bone up to trace a clavicle before leaning in and locking their lips together.

Rachel moaned, her hand finding Quinn's shoulder, her nails gripping into her skin.

Quinn slid her hand up and down the girl's back, her tongue slipping past smooth lips. Rachel felt her muscles tighten at the feeling of the blonde's tongue exploring every inch of her mouth.

Her nails raked down the girl's back, arching her body against the blonde's.

"Fuck, Rach," Quinn moaned, her hand sliding down to squeeze the girl's ass.

Rachel ground her hips forward, eyes rolling into the back of her head. Quinn dropped her mouth to suck and nip at the girl's neck. She traced her tongue down to the girl's prominent collar bone, sucking gently, pulling the girl's hips against hers rhythmically.

"Quinn, if you don't stop that, I'm going to cum."

Quinn groaned, feeling her teeth dig sharply into the girl's skin. She slid her thigh between the other girl's, roughly pulling her down against her.

Rachel whimpered, breathy moans escaping her lips with each thrust of her hips. Her pussy slid wetly against the blonde's strong thigh.

"Quinn," Rachel gasped, her body shaking, wetness gushing onto the girls' leg. Quinn groaned, feeling white hot heat surge through her.

Her hands slid down, pulling Rachel's thighs around to straddle her, her lips finding a nipple. She drew circles around it, scraping her teeth over the tight skin.

Rachel whimpered in response, pressing her hips down, her soaked, sticky curls meeting Quinn's.

Quinn slid her hand down between their bodies, her wrist stinging at the angle before she slipped her fingertips around Rachel's wetness.

The brunette gasped, falling forward onto her elbows, her hair making a curtain around them.

Fingertips explored, drawing circles around the girl's clit, flicking it back and forth before dipping lower to collect more of the girl's wetness.

God she was _soaked_.

Quinn moaned at the feeling, moving her fingertips to the girl's entrance. She circled, barely pressing her fingertips in before sliding back out to circle again. Rachel panted against her lips, thrusting her hips down, trying to force the blonde inside.

"Quinn, please," Rachel begged, whimpering.

The blonde complied, sliding her two middle fingers in, her eyes crossing at the tight, wet sensation.

Rachel moaned, rocking her hips against the intrusion. She rode the girl's fingers, her brow furrowed, her lips parted.

Quinn stared at the girl, using her other hand to tweak her sensitive nipples.

"_Fuck_," Rachel moaned. "_There. Again. God, Q."_

Quinn curled her fingers again, heat pooling in her belly at the sounds coming from the other girl. Her fingers pressed harder, fucking the girl with abandon.

Rachel humped the girl's fingers, whimpering and moaning breathily against the girl's ear before she clamped down on the fingers inside her, gasping out Quinn's name.

Quinn felt heat rush through her, fire flooding her veins as she watched the girl come apart above her.

Quinn continued to pump her fingers roughly, riding out the girl's orgasm.

"Again," Quinn demanded, circling the girl's abused clit.

Rachel could only whimper in response, her hips moving hard against the blonde's hand. Rachel felt like her body was on fire, tensing and clenching, sticky wetness pouring out of her.

Her hands tightened in the blonde's hair as she shook, coming again on the blonde's hand.

Quinn slowed her movements, letting the girl come down from her high before removing her fingers.

Rachel groaned at the loss, her hips rocking forward.

Quinn chuckled throatily.

"Are you sure you've never done that before?"

"Only to myself."

"Fuck," the brunette mumbled into a pillow.

"Language."

"No."

Quinn laughed.

"Your turn," Rachel said, sitting up shakily.

"Tonight was about you."

"It's about us."

Quinn conceded, letting the girl's hands slide against her sweat dampened skin. Rachel moved her palms up and down the blonde's stomach, over her chest, avoiding achingly hard nipples.

Quinn squirmed, pushing her chest forward.

It was Rachel's turn to chuckle as she leaned down, licking a path from the girl's neck down to her chest, sucking hard on the girl's nipples.

Quinn groaned, her hands fisting in Rachel's hair.

Rachel smirked, sinking her teeth into the tender skin.

The blonde shrieked, pulling the brunette's face closer, her eyes tightly shut.

Rachel slipped her hand down to tease the girl's thighs, gathering the wetness she found there.

The brunette leaned back, moving her fingers up her body before sliding her fingertips between her lips, sucking the sticky wetness, moaning loudly.

Quinn watched, her pupils blown as the girl teased her mercilessly.

"Rachel, please."

Rachel gave her the best doe-eyed look she could muster, smirking at the blonde's desperate moan.

"Please, Rach. I need you."

The brunette nodded, sliding her body down the blonde's, living the feel of her nipples dragging over smooth, hot skin.

Quinn was shaking, her body desperate for release.

Rachel smirked, pushing the girl's strong thighs apart, settling her body there.

Quinn looked down, meeting the brunette's eyes.

Rachel grinned before sliding her tongue between slippery folds, moaning at the taste. Quinn's back arched as she gasped, her hands fisting the sheets below her.

Rachel made circles around the girl's stiff clit, sliding languidly down to dip into her.

Quinn was incoherent, whimpering, moaning, and shaking, sweat breaking out over her brow.

Rachel dug her nails into the girl's thighs before forcing two fingers into the blonde, curling them. Quinn instantly responded, her hand reaching down, desperate to grab onto something. Rachel slid her hand up to meet Quinn's locking their fingers together.

Quinn rocked her hips down on the girl's fingers, feeling them press against places inside her that she didn't know existed.

Rachel moved her fingers, brow furrowing, searching for—

"_Fuck_."

The girl smirked, pressing harder against the blonde's g-spot. Quinn shrieked, twisting the sheets in her hand, her hips rocketing off the bed, thrusting hard against the fingers inside her.

Rachel watched as the girl rode her fingers, seeing the girl's brows gather, her hands shake, her thighs twitch.

She leaned forward and sucked her clit into her mouth, tonguing it hard, feeling the blonde clamp down on her fingers.

"_Rachel_."

Quinn's body convulsed, sticky wetness gushing over Rachel's hand and wrist, coating her lips. Rachel slowed her fingers, letting the blonde come down before she pulled out, laying down next to the girl.

Quinn cupped Rachel's cheek, pulling her in for a slow, lazy kiss. Rachel smiled into the girl's lips.

"I love you."

"I love you too, Quinn. Very much."

The blonde smiled and felt at peace for the first time in months. Santana was wonderful, but she was finding friends in the soldiers and many of the people who had found shelter there. Quinn couldn't get over the loss of the one girl she had connected with since Puck.

She held the smaller girl until she felt her breathing slow before she got up and found her notepad. She flicked on the light at her desk and pulled out her pen.

"_Everything in the world may have changed. I lost so many people that I cared about. Brittany. Puck. My family. My friends. And things may never get back to what they used to be. People are still infected. People are still being bitten and are changing. But somehow amid all of that nightmare, I got my happy ending. I have her. And even if we were the only ones left on the planet, I know that things would somehow turn out okay."_

Quinn shut her memo pad, tucking it back into the desk drawer. She flicked off the light, and crawled into bed next to the girl she'd fallen in love with.

* * *

**A/N: **It's finished! Again, thank you for reading. Please review!


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